The Cosmic Equation
by Ripper101
Summary: Sequel to 'Bond of Sun and Moon'. Toby has recovered from his recent brush with death, and unfortunately neither he nor Jareth are done with each other. Rating remains for continuation of angst, rape, torture and now for mpreg. Updated.
1. Proposals

Author's Note: Sequel to 'Bond of Sun and Moon'. Definitely read that first.

Author's Note 2: We're back! And Jareth has quite a few surprises for us. The same warnings still hold for rape, angst and torture, but this time I also have something different- Mpreg!

* * *

"You're being ridiculous," Toby snorted, sitting up in bed and laughing. 

Sarah looked indignant. "I am not," she protested, "Think about it..."

"I'd rather not," Toby quirked, "Let's just say it's still not something I'm used to. And no, having my own valet is not quite enough to entice me back there."

Sarah sobered up as sadness flickered into the blue eyes. It was a momentary gleam only and Toby had been in good spirits for most of the day, but it was still too much of a reminder of everything that had ever gone wrong in her brother's life. She sighed, patting a thin hand and wishing she could help. But it was not her battle, and like Jareth, she had been forced to let go.

"Sarah, don't pity me."

Green eyes blinked at the sudden quiet statement. "I wasn't," Sarah protested, "I don't pity you."

"I'm glad," another voice joined in, "Pity really is such a waste of time."

From the look of Toby's beaming face, there was only person who it could be. That, and no one else managed to sound quite so smug in a gravelly English accent. She stood up and turned to glare at the fairy standing prettily behind her, a smirk on his pale face. "You," she said carefully, "Should learn not to creep up on people!"

"I don't creep; Toby's nerves wouldn't stand it. For you, my elf- a present."

Toby grinned and shook his head, accepting the crystal with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning, not quite bouncing on his bed in excitement, but obviously eager to open it. He held it in his hands and turned it over, trying to see what it was he was supposed to do with it. He made a silent wish but nothing happened. He shook it- nothing again. Damn, Jareth was getting good at this game!

Jareth sat down and watched him, a small smile on his face at the deep concentration. It had become one of the highlights of his day to give Toby a 'present' every morning when he arrived. It had quickly turned into a game to see how inventive Jareth could be, and how ingeniously Toby could get the crystal to yield up what it was meant to. So far, Toby had managed it every time.

Sarah silently left the room, leaving them alone to go get ready for work. There was no need any longer for her to stay. Besides, everyone got the feeling that Toby would rather spend a morning with Jareth than with anyone else, so they pandered to his wishes and smiled in private. Except for Harold, who glowered every time he laid eyes on the Goblin King. But since Jareth seemed quite as uncomfortable with the man, they both had the decency to stay out of each other's way.

"Well?" Jareth asked, leaning back comfortably with his legs outstretched.

Toby waved briefly to his companion and then went back to his crystal. Perhaps there was a word that unlocked it? He tried every significant word that Jareth had ever said to him that he could remember but none of them had any impact. The crystal remained annoyingly closed. Mismatched eyes continued to gaze steadily at him, infinite patience in their impatient depths.

"You're a contradiction," Toby murmured unexpectedly, "That's what Mom called you yesterday."

Jareth raised an exotic dark brow and felt the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. But he kept silent, guessing that his elf was in the mood to ramble and quite content to listen to him for a while. The strength had not yet returned to his voice and Toby still sounded far too uncertain of himself. There was time, Jareth reminded himself coolly, and there would be time enough for him to grow surer.

Toby did not need to look up to know that his bond mate was listening. Sitting in bed with a crystal turning absently in his hands, he felt more peaceful than he had for a long time. "She said," he continued softly, "That you were far too nice to be so cruel. I told her you were very cruel and that nothing was ever what it seemed. She laughed."

"She should," Jareth replied, "It was rather a thoughtless thing to say."

Blue eyes glared up at him from behind a curtain of tangled blond curls. "Thanks! And here I thought I was defending you!"

A rich chuckle and then Jareth sat beside him on the bed, long legs tucked neatly away in the tiny space and a white hand stroking the contours of a golden arm. "You were, luv; and for that I thank you. But statements like that... you need to speak them with experience, not for effect. For example, I could tell you that black were white and you would only laugh at me. But if I tell you that nothing is ever as it seems, you will believe me. I know appearances, Toby; I have lived them and lived through them. Life is a never-ending masquerade ball; we each have our masks and our pretty costumes. And that is all we have."

"If that's all we have, then why bother?"

Ah! Now that was something Jareth had been hoping to talk about for quite some days now. Gently he pried the crystal from stiff fingers, lifting a palm to drop a kiss into it. Then the crystal began to roll and writhe upon long fingers. "Do you remember the last dream we shared?"

"Yeah," Toby growled, "You got pissed and scared the hell out me!"

The other hand began to stroke the golden hair, fingering strands as if learning every last nuance of feel. "That is true. Did you know that I was scared too? You asked me if the Labyrinth was more powerful: no, it is not. But it contains more formal power than I ever will. The Spirit of the Labyrinth comes to my call and submits to my management of its boundaries; but the power I own comes from its essence and without the Labyrinth I would be severely at a disadvantage."

Teeth bit at the full lower lip, worrying the soft skin as Toby tangled his fingers in his t-shirt and thought about that. It was not something very complex to understand. In fact, it was singularly easy! Yet there were the finer points to it that left so much doubt. Jareth obeyed the Labyrinth... and the Labyrinth obeyed him?

"I asked you to break the crystal for the truth," Jareth resumed, placing the crystal back in Toby's hands, "I put conditions on our relationship and I am sorry. The gift this morning, my elf, is a promise- you can trust me."

"So I get to keep this one intact?" Toby asked archly, smiling a little. Closet romantic? Jareth was more likely a mansion-worth of romantic! It was oddly amusing and very sweet. Of course, Toby would not admit on pain of anything at all that he thought someone was 'sweet', but there it was. Jareth, he exulted, was a sweetheart.

"Well, unless you like wanton destruction of pretty things..."

Toby stuck his tongue out, but hard fingers caught it before he could pull it back.

"Such rudeness," Jareth smirked, "However will I punish it?"

Toby narrowed his eyes and looked sulky. His bond mate only laughed at him, bloodless lips curved in a genuine boyish grin, wild hair tossed and tousled, the green poet-sleeved shirt a welcome change from the usual black and white. Toby was uncomfortably aware of his own skin all of a sudden, and the fact that there was nothing but a fragile layer of clothes over him.

The laughter died down as something else began to flicker. Jareth tilted his head, absorbing this feeling so slowly, almost as if it was pushing through him with elusive force. He wondered wistfully where he now stood with the boy. There was so much left unsaid, so much he wanted to say but simple contact just drove the thoughts from his head. How was it Archer phrased it- 'obsessive intimacy'? Yes, that was it. Toby, as he liked to put it, was the drug in his veins.

The wet muscles rolled beneath his fingertips as Toby unconsciously swallowed. It roused him from his thoughts, made him remember what the hell was going on. And he let go very hurriedly and stood. Which was probably quite the wrong thing to do because his shirt was not quite long enough and his blood had rushed from his head straight to his groin. Toby's jaw dropped at the sight and then a blush stained the cheeks and nose of the mortal as he turned his head.

"Excuse me." It was a command, not a request.

Toby huddled beneath his blanket as he raised a hand to cover his eyes. God, would none of this ever end? Why the fuck did everything have to be so hard? He sniggered bitterly at the unintended pun. The crystal lay next to him on the bed, radiating a kind of warmth as if it sensed his pain.

And it did. For Jareth had woven a complex spell into it in lieu of their bond's shortcomings. He stood with his back against the wall and stared at the closed door of Toby's bedroom, steadying himself with deep breathes as Toby's confusion washed through him.

"I could go to him," the fairy mused softly, "Or I could stay here. I certainly can't leave him alone in the house... shouldn't be leaving him alone at all." And there it was- he had promised never to leave! But he didn't know how to stay.

The sound of the door opening startled him and he raised unguarded eyes to blink at Toby walking slowly from the room, favouring his still-sore stomach and his small face unreadable. "I thought staying in there would be a bad idea," Toby muttered, jerking his head in the direction of his bedroom, "Let's go to the kitchen. I'm hungry anyway."

Jareth nodded and let him lead the way. Toby hated contact now at the best of times, suffering touches only if he instigated them or trusted the person implicitly. Jareth was trusted; but sometimes that trust broke temporarily. This was one of those times and though he longed to sweep the small figure up into his arms, he stayed his hands and let things pass. There would be no touching until Toby was ready.

The kitchen, thank goodness, did not inspire either of them to romantic thoughts. It was bright, cheery and vastly practical. Toby dropped into a chair near the wall with a tired sigh. Walking could be hard when one had no energy.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've just walked from my room to the kitchen."

"I see." The Goblin King didn't, but he let it pass. It was not his business anyway. He set about raiding the fridge with business-like aplomp, looking so out of place in this typical suburban home that Toby grimaced at the sight.

"Jareth, why did you save me?"

There was no indication of Jareth answering him. Instead boots padded noiselessly over the floor as Jareth opened a cupboard for a glass. The click of the wooden catch was far too loud, reminding him of other sounds, reminding Toby of woods and trees and agony beneath the stars. It made him angry. Angry enough that he stalked to the fairy, grabbing the glass of milk away and throwing it in one furious moment to smash against the floor. Shards of glass rained under their feet but Toby could not have cared one jot.

Instead he grabbed Jareth's head and pulled it down, drawing it close enough to kiss, close enough to bite. So close... "I wanted to die and you didn't let me. Why the bloody hell couldn't you leave me be?"

"Because you were never meant to die," Jareth snapped back, gripping the slender wrists and feeling the fragile bones shift under the thin skin. Far too fragile. Sturdier bones had been broken that night and the boy was much too easy to break apart! It drove Jareth to match anger for anger, fear for fear. "Don't be stupid. Do you think I would have left you to die? To bleed out in a public park?"

"I was raped!" Toby shouted, "You think I want to live for that?"

"That's all over," Jareth hissed, controlling his temper as the hands tangled in his hair began to tremble. "He won't come back for you. I won't let him touch you..."

"How? You promised me this before Jareth and it happened again. You can't protect me," the violent torment was so strong Jareth could feel it start to choke him, "You brought me back to nothing but pain."

"I brought you back to life, where you belong."

"Here?" Toby let go so fast that he stumbled, pulling viciously away when Jareth tried to steady him. He whirled in a circle with his arms out, throwing hysterical glances through the sunny room. "A place I don't belong? Living with my mommy and daddy in a world I hate with my heart in little pieces? You brought me back to misery and Goddamn you, but I love you for it! You know that? I fucking love you for that!"

Jareth held his breath, blanking all expression from his face. This had needed to be said. He was dimly aware of ribbons of pain. More than that, he was queasy and hoping not to retch all over Karen's clean floors. "I wanted to give you happiness," he sighed, "I want to give you the world, but it's such a hurtful, hateful place that you can't hold it without burning your hand. I am sorry you hurt, but I will not let you die in such a way."

"Then you're selfish," Toby said, "Look at me, Jareth. I've been raped and broken and torn; I'm not fit for anything now. What do you want me to do here- go back to school? Go to college? I never fit in anyway. How do I tell people my own age that I'm bonded to the Goblin King and madly in love with him? You don't see it but I do: I'm- I'm not going to survive if I have to stay here. And I can't hurt Mom and Dad and Sarah, so I'll have to leave. I must. And then he'll come back for me and there'll be no one."

"There will always be someone. You can always call on me."

"I could. But why? I wanted you to touch me, to hold me, to take me. But you won't! You stand there and I just know you're going to tell me that you can't let me be involved with you. And then to call you when I'm... like that! It'd kill me. I don't even know which side is up any more. The only place that makes sense is the Underground. And I understand it a little, which makes me sound insane and I know you don't believe me but it's true- I feel at home there."

"Toby, you are only sixteen! You have so much life to live, so many things to see. Why the devil do you want to give all that up for a life tied to one person? I cannot give you friends. I cannot give you anything you've grown up with. I cannot even give you freedom to roam because there are dangers for you in my land that has nothing to do with insane rapists. Do you want me to take you to that?"

"Jareth, I want you. If that means in the Underground, then yes. If you hate the Goblin Kingdom so much, then why not give it up? Live with me in the Aboveground. We could travel the world." Toby moved closer, hungry lips parted and pleading. "I would make you happy..."

"I will not give up my Kingdom." The growl was final, irrevocable and a sworn oath so certain that Toby knew better than to argue.

"Then let me live with you. Please, Jareth," to the Goblin King's infinite shock, Toby fell to his knees before him, "I'm begging. I love you and it hurts. If you love Archer, or if you want him, that's fine. I won't interfere with you. I don't want to rule a kingdom; you're the King, not me. I just want to love you."

White fingertips fluttered down over the flushed face, unexpectedly coated with leather gloves that burned over the soft skin. Glowing blue eyes, the wide mouth panting softly, almost groaning as the fingers dipped partway into that warm cavern and forced it to open wider. The other hand tangled in golden hair.

"You think you can stand that," the raw silk voice was mocking, soft to the point where Toby heard it in his head rather than his ears, "To love me is to desire me, Toby. How long could you stand to put up with that?"

"Forever..."

"Truly? I will take you right to the very abyss between heaven and hell and I force you further. It will hurt and you will not even have the excuse of rape. You will crave it until you agree to anything if only to have me touch you and I won't oblige until I am ready." He bent down, leaning forward to whisper in a straining ear- "I have a voracious appetite, my elf. And not only for sex. You will have no choices if you return with me."

Whatever Jareth was hoping for, he did not get. For though Toby shuddered he pressed closer, burying his face in the crook of shoulder and neck, nuzzling deeper and licking at the pale flesh. Warm, wet... everything converging to just that one simple erotic desire.

Grabbing the lithe body up, hauling him to his feet and lifting him, Jareth could not resist this. He desired it, needed it, and when Toby wrapped slender legs around his waist and pressed a dazed kiss to his mouth he tore it savagely from the boy. He demanded his needs be met. Toby did it willingly, moaning for more when Jareth bit harshly at his neck and drank down the taste of him.

"Please..."

Who was that? Jareth almost fancied it was his own voice but he didn't remember saying anything.

"Please..."

It felt like both or neither of them. But the simple sobbing words were enough to make him stop, to hold the child but withdraw his mouth.

Toby was sobbing. Crying desperately as he leaned his head against Jareth's shoulder, arms flung tight around Jareth's neck.

"Ssh... I'm sorry. Forgive me, my elf, I never meant to upset you." If anything, Jareth had now made his point. Toby would never be ready for what Jareth desired. And to help him prepare himself required so much love and trust that Jareth was certain it could not be done. Not after the severe beating and rape that his bond mate had endured. Arienne had forcibly reset the broken ribs and bones and poured quart upon quart of herbal tinctures down Toby's throat to stop the internal bleeding. What both of them wanted could exist now in dreams only. And there it would have to end.

"I'm not upset," the child gulped harshly, pulling away, "Look at me- I am not upset. I'm only... Okay, I'm upset. But not the way you think! Jareth, I'm just confused. I need a little time, but I do love you and- and I can do this. I just need a little time. Just a little. Please. A little time."

Jareth sat Toby down in a chair and then knelt before him. "Toby, you cannot ask me to understand any of this," he said honestly, "I'm not capable of it. It burns too bright and that's not in my nature. If I could, I would give you my world and everything in it but it will very soon cease to excite you. You will long to be released from it, to come back to the Aboveground. And that will only cause us more pain. This way is better."

Hands, small and golden and so very delicate, touched his chest. Three ornate silver buttons were undone and the forest green material pushed aside. A hand slipped gently over hidden skin to press soothingly over a beating heart.

"I love you."

The words were short. There were no frills, no declaration of forever and a day, no promises of sunshine and roses. Only the emotions.

Jareth was known to be impetuous. He was known to take a mad idea into his head and not listen to a word of reason as he followed it to the last letter. Many times had he harmed himself through his inability to think things through. But in this case, he had already been half-persuaded and trying very hard to talk himself out of it. But Toby was asking for it and Jareth wasn't inclined to say no once more. And yet he surprised even himself when he said- "Will you marry me?"

"What?" The golden hand stopped dead and Toby's jaw dropped in shock.

Jareth shrugged mentally and went with the moment. "Will you marry me?" he echoed, "I will be everything you have ever needed; I will move the stars for you."

"Jareth, we're guys, remember? We can't get married!"

"There is no distinction in the Underground for marriages between inter-gender or in-gender lovers. We can do this." Jareth was begging now. He could hear the pleas in his own voice. But Gods, to be able to wake up to this beauty! Or to see Toby reading quietly in his library when the day was too rainy to take him out! Jareth felt he might well kill for that privilege. "Please!"

Toby bit his lip, eyes full of hope and need and uncertainty. "What if you get bored of me? I'm not anything special and I can't give you kids."

"I don't want anything you cannot give me," Jareth snapped, impatiently pulling the fire-blond off the chair to kneel before him, tired of the crick in his neck from looking up, "I just want you. You say you want me. You say you love me. How can that bore me?"

Toby hesitated.

"I would keep you well," Jareth sighed, "I would be able to protect you because the bond would strengthen and no one would touch you again without my knowing it. You will be happy. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."

The Labyrinth... Toby had heard this before- Jareth's relationship with the Labyrinth. They both served the other, and demanded certain needs that the other fulfilled. Could he be that way? Could he come running when called and let Jareth have final say in everything? In turn the Goblin king would make him happy, he knew that.

"Yes."


	2. Plans

Author's Note: I do not know what the hell Toby's dad's name is. I've tried researching but they never have them written anywhere. In the end I resorted to studying fanfictions. I know someone has mentioned Richard but there were more Harolds. So I picked that one.

* * *

"Sleep, child. I'll speak to them." 

"Dad'll kill me, Jareth... he'll really kill me!" Toby looked like someone was already approaching him with a knife, wringing his hands and sitting so stiffly in bed that even one loud noise would probably have given him a heart-attack.

Jareth smoothed the golden hair off his face and shook his head, smiling slightly at the sight. "No one will kill you. Your father may not like it, but he cannot stop you."

"I don't want him to know!"

"Toby, how do you plan to spend the rest of your life as my spouse and not let your father know? Be reasonable! They'd notice you were gone."

"I could tell them you were taking me for a holiday and just not come back?"

Jareth sighed. He didn't want to start pulling his weight about something so ridiculous, but if Toby was going to act as an irrational child, then there was only one thing he could do. He stood, regally and coldly, eyes daring the mortal to challenge his word- "I will speak with him while you rest. Do I make myself clear?"

Toby growled and flounced back into bed. "Yeah," he muttered, "But I'm warning you- I'll get thrown out and Dad will probably take a swing at you."

"He may certainly try! He won't succeed but I suppose it's no use warning him."

The two stared speculatively at each other, not quite sure how they should part. The small room felt especially claustrophobic when it was only the two of them, seeming to force them together so hard that they almost involuntarily pulled away. Arguments between them were common in this room and the past two minutes had been no exception. Yet, weren't they now affianced? Or at least lovers in the spirit if not in the body?

Toby cleared his throat and nodded awkwardly. "So," he coughed, waving a reluctant hand, "You should probably go talk to them. I, uh, I'll see you when you're done?"

Jareth's face softened. Leaning down, he brushed a small kiss to the wide mouth, flicking the barest tip of his tongue to the crease in the centre of the lower lip before pulling away and nodding. "I will come straight to you with good news," he promised, "But you had better be asleep by then."

Toby coughed again and nodded quickly. He waited until the door was closed to sink into the pillows and press his fingers into his aching eyes. As he had suspected, the whole thing was going to descend even more into madness!

Jareth was of much the same opinion, reflectively pursing his mouth as he wandered down the stairs to find his prospective father-in-law. There was no proper way for a half-faerie Goblin King to broach peacefully the subject of marrying a mortal man's son, especially when the man was quite violently opposed to said Goblin King's very existence. "Mr. Williams," he demanded, stalking into the living room with the frown on his face that said he was uncomfortable and blamed the other male fully, "I have something to say to you. In private, please."

Harold turned, jaw stiff and tight with dislike. He had not even changed from his crumpled shirt and tie yet; the briefcase and the jacket lay propped on the couch, simple reminders that he had only just returned from a busy day to his insane family.

"What's it about?" Harold asked cautiously.

The Goblin King raised an eyebrow and glanced at Karen. "The subject is a delicate one. I would prefer talking to you alone."

"Look, I've only just got back so don't spin me any tales. Just tell me," Harold growled, a finger pointing accusingly at Jareth's nose, " You have five minutes and Karen stays."

Jareth sighed, "If you wish. It is about Toby, however, and I do not want to subject her to your expected outrage."

Karen looked surprised. Walking forward, she patted her husband's arm absently to soothe him, before motioning to the armchairs. "Sit down, Jareth. What's wrong with Toby now? Is he sick?"

"He's not sick. We spoke this morning about the future... about our future actually." There was no delicate way to say this. "Toby has agreed to return to the Underground with me as my mate."

Total silence. Two pairs of mortal eyes blinked and looked confused. The clock in the hallway was audible, ticking monotonously through the stifling tension that began to seep through the house. Jareth sat perfectly relaxed but watchful, eyes moving from one face to the next as Karen's jaw dropped and Harold's face began to turn purple.

Surprisingly enough, when the first word was spoken, Harold was very calm about it. "Your mate? What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"It is no secret that your son and I have feelings for each other. I have proposed marriage to Toby."

"M-marriage?" Karen's voice was a bare squeak. "B- but he's just a child... and how is this possible?"

"The marriage- or formal binding- of two individuals is not restricted to gender in my Kingdom. Toby desires to return with me, so I propose to take him back as my Prince, my consort... my husband," Jareth could not resist adding that last term, just to see Harold's fingers tightened on his wife's hand.

"And Toby says yes?"

Ah! Now there was the catch! Jareth knew what Toby wanted and what Toby's decision was, but that had been at nine in the morning when no one else was around to make him feel guilty. It was only natural that the Willams would do all in their power to make Toby stay in the Aboveground and not marry another man. And Jareth was still not certain that Toby would not crumble so easily under than pressure. "He has," he revealed reluctantly, "However, I am not sure whether he will feel the same way tomorrow."

"What if he does?"

Harold was still being far too calm. It was getting annoying. Jareth shrugged. "I will make the preparations for the ceremony."

The mortal took his time digesting that fact. That Toby had 'feelings' for this man was obvious; he had known that with Toby's first mention of the Goblin King's name. Harold was not quite sure that he wanted to know about this. He would not mind it happening if he could simply excuse his part in the whole business as being completely ignorant of it. After all, if he didn't see anything, he could pretend it didn't exist. But he was being asked- if he was reading this right- for his acceptance. And he had no idea what to say to that.

"Jareth, Toby's a boy and he's too young to be getting married! How could you even suggest such a thing to him? For God's sake he tried to commit suicide over you and now your just making things worse," Karen yelled, on her feet and clearly upset.

Harold grasped her hand and pulled her roughly back down to him, throwing an arm around her shoulder for support. "Excuse my wife," he muttered stiffly to the annoyed half-goblin, "It's been a big strain on her."

Mismatched eyes softened somewhat, flicking to the stairs for a minute just to ensure that Toby hadn't heard it and come running down the stairs. "I can understand that," he replied, "But believe me when I say that I only have Toby's best interests at heart. I..." he hesitated for a second and then plunged on, "I love my elf. I would do nothing to hurt him. He would visit you and I can ensure that you may contact him as often as you liked."

"What more do you want from him," Karen sighed tiredly, "He stuck a knife in himself because you tried this before! What stops you from sending him back to the same thing when you're bored with him? No. I won't allow this. There's no use asking because I can't agree. I won't. Not ever."

"Karen, listen to reason,"

"What kind of mother would I be if I let him make such a mess of his life?"

"He has already agreed."

"No, Jareth, and that's final. Toby is not thinking clearly at the moment and I won't let him do such a thing."

Jareth snapped, "By all the Gods of nature, this is the only thing that will protect him!"

"Protect him? From what?" Harold's ears pricked up and he leaned forward, staring intently into the anger-darkened dual-coloured eyes that spat at him. He had known it! Something was bothering Toby and this Goblin King knew something.

No, Jareth decided, losing his temper had not been the most painless way to do this. But if it would persuade them then his hands were tied. "Toby had an unfortunate experience when he was with me in the Underground," he began, "Wait! I will tell you about it but do not interrupt until I have finished. Your son was raped. I do not know by whom, but he somehow managed to mentally link himself to Toby and has continued to torment him at frequent intervals. Toby was confused, dealing with something like that and his feelings for me, and so I sent him back here in the hope that he would find some peace."

"Sure didn't work," Harold commented, a white line around his mouth from folding his lips tight over the curses he wished to pour on the half-goblin's head.

Moon-blond hair wisped around Jareth's face, the sharp features reflecting much of the anger that the mortal felt. "It did not," he agreed, "I contacted Toby through his dreams and we shared what consolation we could through that medium. Again, it did not work. Toby turned suicidal, yes, but he would never have willingly killed himself. Except that he was attacked in the park that night and raped again. Badly."

Karen emitted a strangled gasp at the thought.

"He will not tell me what happened, and I would beg that you do not ask him just yet. It's still too fresh for him. He has, however, told me that he tried to kill himself after that. It was the rape that finally pushed him over the edge."

"Really. And how exactly will you make this better?" Now the fury was beginning to seep into Harold's voice. Jareth straightened in his seat. "How exactly do you plan to help him when it's your fault he's in this mess? You and your bonds and your freaks of nature! He was sixteen, damn it! And you let something like this happen?"

The Goblin King winced. It was horribly, terribly true and he was forced to defend himself out loud. "You forget- I didn't let any of this happen. I did not rape Toby, nor did I invite someone else to rape him. It was an unfortunate turn of events but there are those who would do such things even in the Aboveground. The only reason I speak of all this is because his marriage to me will save him from that ever happening ever again."

"How?"

Jareth's fingers smoothed the worn material of the armchair, skimming casually over the rough material. "The bond is a tricky thing. With it, Toby and I should have had an emotional awareness of each other, an understanding that is closer than any other relationship. But we do not; for one because he is a mortal, and another because he was just an infant when it was forged. But with the combination of the bond and of a formal binding, the connection between us will grow to a full ability to feel each other. We would know each other's emotions and opinions. There have been such cases with a bond and marriage combination where the couple have been able to mind-speak with each other. With that, I can be forever able to protect him at the first sign of trouble. Or at the least, Toby will share my power and can protect himself. I would not take him back down there if this were not true. And I only take him back if I can marry him."

Mother and Father sat in silence, glancing to each other to better decide. Jareth was not actually asking their permission, but they knew just as well as Jareth how they could influence their son's feelings on this matter. And it would be so much simpler to persuade him not to go.

"He loves you," Karen commented, turning things over in his mind, "I think that's fairly obvious. He wants to be with you. But I don't like it."

"What don't you like, Karen?" Jareth invited. "Tell me. If you can come up with one good reason why this shouldn't take place, I'll be the first to tell Toby that I won't marry him."

"I don't know. But Toby's never been… I mean he's never seemed interested in men. Why now? How is it possible?"

Jareth sighed and tilted his head. "Have you considered that he isn't gay?" From the look on Karen's face, she hadn't. "I'm sure you'll find that he's just as interested in girls as before. If he ever was."

"He had a girlfriend," Karen said tartly.

"I'm sure he did. But consider that he has also been bonded to another person since he was a year old. From the little I understand about bonds," Jareth couldn't help being ironic, "From the little I understand, that would have compromised his abilities to relate to anyone else to a marked degree. Add to that that the bond was so unguided that it included all aspects of relations… no, I calculate that he would have liked the girl well enough, but never very much. He wouldn't have been capable of it."

Harold huffed and dismissed it immediately as being some more of that magical theory he couldn't bring himself to believe in. That a Goblin King could exist was fine. That a bond might be real was stretching it. That this bond could be responsible for his son's reticence in meeting other people was beyond what he could listen to. Karen, however, seemed to experience no difficulty in accepting this. Perhaps because she had been the one to scold him and cajole him into bringing friends home, or been the one to see that the relationship hadn't worked with that nice Elaine Harris because of Toby's complete lack of interest.

"Okay," she said reluctantly, "But he's a mortal. You can't take him away from a world he knows to some wild land like the Underground."

Like Karen, Jareth admitted the truth- the Underground was certainly a wild land. Still very feudal. Still very passionate. "His life will be linked with mine when he marries me," Jareth argued, "How long exactly he will live is beyond me to predict but it will be long enough that he won't be mortal. In any case, he will never age. Or he will, but the Faerie Effect in me is strong enough that he should reach his peak age and then refrain from growing older in any way except the mind. And you have to take into account that the bond having been in place since his infancy would have actually made him predisposed to a magical environment rather than a non-magical environment."

Karen blinked. "Are you saying he'll be more comfortable in your world than his own?" she demanded.

"Yes."

Karen and Harold shared a mutually resigned look. Harold still looked sulky, but even more than his wife he could already see how things would pan out. Jareth was one of those people who could justify anything he took it into his head to do. And he meant to take Toby away. Harold actually preferred it if Toby was to be taken away in something- God help them all!- something approaching an honourable position.

"Would you treat him well?" Karen asked.

"He would be a Prince in my Kingdom. As my husband he would rule at my side."

Harold grimaced at that term. "Husband," he echoed, "More like someone's wife! Geez... I can't believe this is happening." He ran his free hand through his hair. "You'll protect him?"

"I will. He will be well looked after."

Karen was intending to say yes, she really was. But the entire concept filled her with dread. What could such a life hold for Toby? What kind of life would it be? How could she explain this to anyone else? "I don't know, Jareth. It- it seems so wrong somehow."

Jareth had had quite enough by now. They were dithering, unable to make up their minds on whether or not their son's happiness and safety was more important that the perceived shame of his sexual preference! He rose lightly to his feet, lips tightened and muscles bunched with restrained emotion. "Perhaps you would do well to consider the wrong-doing in light of prejudice," he spat, "Toby is mine! Whether you'd like to know that or not! And if you cannot act to save him from the hell he has fallen into, then I do it without your help."

He left then, taking the stairs in his inherent bad temper, more regal than any figurehead mortal monarchy in his absolute power. That he was annoyed was not something either of them took lightly; he had a bad habit of being brutally honest when he was in that mood.

Harold sighed and patted Karen's hand. "What did you tell me to do about Toby's new boyfriend, sweetheart?"

Karen's blue eyes looked resigned as well. "I told you to accept him."

"Exactly." Harold got to his feet and stretched. "Think you can accept your son's new husband as well?"


	3. Back to the Underground

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update; my account was frozen due to an infringement on another story so I couldn't update earlier. That, and this part is a little more tricky to write. Anyway, on with the show, my sweets...

* * *

Sarah sighed and stared up at the ceiling. It was dark- a common occurrence for the middle of the night- and she couldn't sleep. Of course, her husband was currently out for the count and beginning to snore. She nudged him vindictively in the side with her elbow, smothering a smile when he jumped and woke up. 

"What... oh. What now?"

"I couldn't sleep," she whined plaintively, reaching out to wrap her arm around his neck, "Keep me company?"

Ben glared at her, blinked at his watch and then glared at her again. "You want me to fall asleep at work tomorrow because I stayed awake all night just to keep you company?"

"Yes."

"All right, sweetheart, I'll bite- what's bothering you?"

Sarah smiled ruefully and sat up, switching on the light while she was at it. She really didn't want to bother Ben with such a silly thing but she was worried. Both waited while their eyes adjusted to the light and then Ben pulled his wife over into his lap, kissing her hair.

"It's Toby," she sighed, "But I guess you knew that?" The dark head nodded. "I don't know what he thinks he's doing! I know he thinks he's in love with Jareth but I just feel like he's running scared. It sounds stupid, but I actually think Jareth's more sensible than Toby is right now! And that's pretty weird 'cause Jareth's the Goblin King and he isn't supposed to be sensible and am I making any sense at all?"

Ben chuckled and shook his head. "Not very much," he admitted, "But enough. You trust Jareth a little more than you trust your own brother. Right? Sarah, you've got to let Toby decide for himself."

"Ben, you don't understand! You've never seen the Underground! It's all crazy and wild and Jareth's just one small part of the danger. I'm so worried that one day Toby will wake up and find that he's just made the biggest mistake of his life. And what then? He's only sixteen; what does he know about love and marriage! He's been raped, for God's sake! He's just throwing himself at the first person he feels can keep him safe; it's got nothing to do with love."

"I think you're underestimating the situation, sweetheart..."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me, mister! I know what I'm talking about. And Toby isn't ready for this."

"Sarah..."

"No, you're not listening! He is going to get in so much trouble and Jareth's not going to lift a finger to help him."

"If you could just..."

"Ben, Jareth's a cruel guy. He'll push Toby too far and what happens when Toby grows up a little and stops worshipping him like he does now? Jareth'll just throw him away and forget about him, that's what he'll do. And Toby will have to pick up the pieces of his life and try to make things work again and..."

A hand clamped onto her mouth, effectively muffling everything else the agitated woman was going to say. Green eyes looked at Ben's frustrated face with innocent enquiry. A dark brow lifted, asking silently what was wrong.

"May I finish what I've been trying to say for ages?" Ben asked gently.

Sarah dipped her head.

"Your brother is very young and yes, he's only sixteen. Maybe he doesn't know about life and love and stuff like that, but as I recall neither did you when we met. And you'd agreed to marry me three months later. As I recall, you almost proposed to me yourself!"

Sarah had the grace to blush. "That was different," she protested, "I was twenty eight and we waited for three years to actually get married. Jareth's talking about getting married next week! And how exactly are guys supposed to get married anyway?"

"Apparently it's perfectly acceptable in his Kingdom," Ben shrugged, "But it is rare. Jareth's pretty nervous about it. Very jittery. He keeps staring off into space when Karen starts talking about the wedding. I think it's to do with the fact that his will be the first royal marriage between men. No other King has done that. For that matter, it seems no Queen's married a woman either."

The woman pouted and turned away, not a little annoyed that her husband was so perfectly calm about something that could only mean trouble. For God's sake, Jareth was involved! If that wasn't trouble then what was?

Ben groaned and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off his face. He had thought that actually settling into married life would not involve such shocks as raped brothers-in-law and insane Goblin Kings, but he had after all sworn to love and live with Sarah through the good times and the bad. He hoped life would start to pick up after a while. "Sarah, I know you're worried. But it's Toby's life. He won't exactly jump for joy to know you're meddling in it. And I think this just might work."

Sarah looked back quickly, the pout falling away to wide-eyed wonder. "You do?"

"I really do."

She considered that, letting her husband pull her close and press a kiss onto her mouth, sighing slightly at the warm tingly feeling that instantly wrapped around the both of them. "I guess you're right," she allowed, reaching up to cup his face.

Kind brown eyes looked at her, darkening ever so slightly in just the way that made her shiver in anticipation. Oh, but if Toby ever had it this bad then he was probably doomed!

"I know I am."

Meanwhile, in a house in a town just five miles away, Toby was saying the exact same thing. True, the circumstances were different and he was rather more desperate than confident, but they were the exact same words: "I know I am!"

Archer folded his arms, cold and magnificent. "How would you know," the fairy accused, "You are a child; barely legal for marriage even in your world let alone ours. What business have you enchanting the Goblin King? Do you imagine that his people will accept you, such as you are?"

"Archer, I don't want power, you know that. I just want Jareth!"

"Well, then I suggest you take a very close look at what you ask for," Archer continued brutally, "You cannot have Jareth without taking the Goblin King as well. Are you prepared for that? What will you give the King of the Goblins that no one else can?"

Toby glowered mutinously. He was tired, morose and his stomach was still sore in spite of Arienne's magic healing the knife wound so fast. He'd been reading, trying to establish some kind of normalcy in his life once more, only to have Lord Archer of the Fairy Kingdom billow into his room like an avenging fury. Which, considering what their topic of conversation had since been, he was. Though Toby still couldn't figure out how Archer had enough magic to make the transition from the Underground to the Aboveground.

Archer stepped closer, shapely legs flexing powerfully beneath the dull gold of his trousers. "I have just spent the most mortifying four hours of my life," he growled, brown eyes dark with anger and worry, "I was in the middle of a formal ball with my Queen when my cousin burst into the palace and demanded my attention. That, Toby Williams, is how far you have pushed him. He had the gall to stand in my palace and serenely announce that he was engaged to a mortal male from the Aboveground."

"Really? Mortal males come from the Underground too?"

A hand clenched unexpectedly fast in the air just a few inches from his throat, gloved fingers tight with violence, a snarl on the handsome face looking down to him. Oh, yes, Toby may have grown; but Archer still towered over him as even Jareth didn't. "I would not," Archer bit out, "Use that tone of voice, mortal. I am inches away from giving you the hiding of your life."

"For which Jareth won't be happy," Toby retorted, standing firm against the aggressive fairy. He was done with backing down from fights. "Touch me and Jareth will never forgive you."

"I know. Why do you imagine I stand here tonight?"

Blue eyes blinked. Was he mistaken or had Archer actually sounded wistful and sad. Toby narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, regarding the other with a keen eye that tried to see past the anger and the posing. Was this about jealousy?

"Yes," Archer answered unexpectedly, eye to eye and quite open about it, "I despise you for what you've done to him."

"I- I haven't done anything."

"He was happy! Until you came, everything was perfect. And then you and your sister invaded his mind. Even with Sarah he could think of nothing else. He obsessed over her until I thought one of us was going mad. But then he found out about his bond with you. And do you know what I thought of him? I thought that Jareth had never sunk so low as the moment he let himself bond with an infant! For the first time in my life I was ashamed of him. It took me many years to overcome that. And now this!"

"Let it go," Toby sighed, "I'm not arguing with you. If you're ashamed, then fine. I won't change your mind. Not like anyone else is offering to love Jareth the way I am. If your cousin needs me so badly, then what does that say about his love-life, huh?"

Archer opened his mouth and then shut it again. Even in gold cloth he seemed to melt into the shadows, the glory of his person reflected in the cold wisdom of his eyes. Toby looked into those eyes, and got the start of his life- there was a passion there that completely superseded everything he'd ever believed about the fairy Lord and himself. Archer was staring intently at him, demand and emotion and desire fluctuating within those boundless depths as if attempting to swallow the small mortal whole.

"My cousin has never lacked for lovers, either physically or emotionally," Archer said quietly, "You would do well to remember that. Do not look at him and see someone alone against the world; he is no such thing. Jareth has more allies than is good for him. And more lovers than he shall ever need, would he just care to look."

Toby had promised not to interfere, but Archer was throwing the topic wide open. The boy couldn't not ask the questions. "I... were you ever... are you in love with him?"

The distance between them was short enough to be covered in two steps. But for all that Toby felt as if he was an entire world away. Perhaps it was due to the fact that they were both, essentially and always, two different people from two different worlds. Archer seemed alien where his cousin seemed outlandish; Archer was foreign where Jareth was merely different. The dynamics were breathtaking now that Toby thought about it. And he despaired of ever being able to measure to the fairy Lord's ideals.

"Would it change your mind if I agreed?" Archer asked, beginning to pace in just the same way that Jareth always did- slow certain steps with his hands clasped lightly behind his back. "What would you think of a cousin who desires his brother in all but name?"

Toby gulped. "I wouldn't say anything," he muttered, "It's none of my business. Does Jareth feel the same? Is that why he wants me, as some kind of denial of the way he feels?"

The ghost of a smile curved those full lips, blood-red and sensuous in the half-light of a bedside lamp. "I have not said that such a love exists between Jareth and myself. But if I were to say so, would you leave him be?"

The mortal opened his mouth to say 'yes'. He wanted to, truly he did, but something was sticking in his throat, selfishness of the very purest kind. "No," he sighed finally.

Archer didn't smile. But the two steps between them were covered in a second, a hand reaching out to grasp the loose cotton t-shirt and haul. Toby found himself dangling almost off the floor, his toes barely scraping the wooden boards beneath as he was brought eye to eye with a severely pissed-off fairy. "You harm one hair of his head and I will kill you," Archer warned, "Look at you! A mortal child trying to play the game of adults! What gave you the right?"

"Jareth! Jareth gives me that right because I love him!"

"You do not even know what love is. You are soiled and broken, looking for some kind of glue to hold your life together. And Jareth's soft heart falls for your little game." The mortal was shoved away to the desk. "What makes you think I would ever let Jareth traffic with such a one as you?"

Toby licked his lips unconsciously with nervousness and fright. "You wouldn't. You'd do everything you could to keep me away from him. Like I'd do everything to stay with him," he said bravely, "And you know what? You'll win. But you know what else? Jareth won't thank you for it."

Long moments passed, seeming to crawl by on crippled limbs, dragged out with every slow breath that each male took. The boy raised his chin, challenging the other to dare take his right away. The fairy wiped all expression from his face, looking like nothing so much as a marble statue made flesh.

Then Toby was set on his feet and Archer turned to leave.

"You have made your decision," Archer said shortly, "And I hope you have the strength to carry it out. I can do no more to stop this foolishness."

"Archer..."

"Hurt him and I will kill you."

Blue eyes looked to brown and saw something else in them; something that said that perhaps the next meeting would be a little more cordial. For there was a smile in those brown eyes. The dark head dipped in a curt nod and then Archer was gone, sinking through the wall to leave his companion alone with his thoughts.

Three days later, Jareth led a group of five awe-inspired people into his formal throne room and threw himself into an enormous chair with a griffith's head carved into the back, the razor-sharp beak and claws moving to protect him instantly.

"Welcome to my kingdom," he smirked.


	4. Opposition

Author's Note: This is an even shorter chapter. My apologies, but I can't run chapters together and there's a certain reason behind all of them.

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Whatever Karen had expected of the Underground, she had hoped to be proved wrong. Unfortunately, she was not. The Underground really was a half-wild land with perverse creatures and the eternal throb of magic. She had definitely not expected an enormous gothic castle in the middle of a dangerous maze. She said as much, which brought a glaze of fascinated horror to her host's eyes.

"Maze," he echoed blankly, "You call it a maze?"

"It's not?"

Jareth threw off the enchanted claws of his throne and stalked to a window. "This," he growled expressively, "is the Labyrinth!"

"Oh."

Toby sighed. "Try to sound excited," he advised in a mock whisper, "Or you'll hurt Jareth's feelings."

Sarah snorted. "His feelings? Didn't know he had any! You'll hurt his pride though and that, Karen, is completely unacceptable."

Jareth growled low in his throat for all the world like an over-large dog and took a threatening step closer. Toby's smirk, however, stopped him dead. Reluctantly he smiled- a ruefully boyish smile full of charm- and pushed his hair from his face. "You," he pointed to his bond mate, "Are going to pay dearly for that."

A brow rose, arching brown over wide blue eyes. Toby nodded blandly. "I see. How?"

It was nothing more than a blink of the eye before Jareth was behind him, purring softly in one ear as he wrapped an arm around the tiny waist. "Do you remember lesson one?" Jareth chuckled.

Toby did remember, and he subsided after a half-hearted struggle, a cautious look thrown at his parents who simply gazed back at him with identical blank expressions. The way he saw it, at least neither of them had staggered away clawing at their eyes yet.

"Lesson two," the Goblin King continued, "I have ingenious ways of exacting my revenge."

Toby gulped and pressed back, pale blond eyelashes fluttering closed as white fingertips ghosted gently over his arm.

"Lesson three..."

"Yeah?" The sane part of his brain snarled at him for sounding quite so high-pitched and breathless.

"... I play a waiting game."

Toby was still pondering those strange words when he found himself freed and Jareth sweetly explaining the history behind a huge tapestry that graced the far wall. The mortal glared at that white shirted straight back for a good two seconds before he heard the sniggers behind him. He turned slowly to see his sister and her husband trying to stifle their humour.

"Stop," he warned, shaking a finger at them.

"Or what," Sarah giggled, "Which lesson are we going to be taught?"

"The one that gets people thrown into Bogs of Eternal Stench," Toby breezed, a contemplative smile creeping over his face, "After all, I'm the Goblin King's bond mate. I could snap my fingers and Jareth would have you... well, I'm not actually sure what he'd do with you but I bet it'd be something nasty."

"Oh sure," Ben replied sardonically, "I'm quaking in my boots."

"Honey, you're not wearing boots."

"It's a figure of speech! I'm allowed to use those."

And so the day had passed. Jareth had been... well, Jareth. But he had been charming and attentive and at the end of the day Toby was a little less worried about his parents demanding to be sent back home. The goblins had been a little nervous around Sarah, but Toby was overwhelmed by how much they seemed to welcome him back. Kyfrem had been ecstatic to have his young master back with him. When Jareth calmly told him that he needed to get Toby a suit for their wedding, the poor goblin had had palpitations and been forced to sit down and take deep breathes. Even Hoggle's eyes had almost fallen out of his head when Sarah accidentally let the cat out of the bag.

And by the time night fell, Toby could not have felt happier than if the rape had never happened. Everyone else had been shown to their rooms after an informal and very chatty dinner and now it was just the two of them, back in the library like that night so many months ago when his world had come crashing down.

Jareth sat curled up his chair, barefoot and with his shirt unbuttoned, watching fondly as his future consort trailed absent-minded fingers over the delicate spines of the books.

"Is this what you really want?" he asked quietly.

Toby looked around and smiled, coming back to perch on the arm of Jareth's chair. "I couldn't ask for anything more," he promised, "Everything I want is here. Okay?"

"No."

"Well, what more can I say?"

"It's not a question of 'saying', my elf. The truth is that you do not belong here. What will happen when you realize that?"

Toby thought about that for a long minute, searching in his head for one of those slender rays of sunshine that had never yet steered him wrong. Dual-coloured eyes were filled with compassion and sober reflection. Jareth wasn't asking out of an attempt to read his intentions, Toby realized, Jareth really did believe that they would face this sooner or later.

He reached back, twisting awkwardly to stroke over a sharp cheekbone. "Look, we don't have to get married," he volunteered, "I can stay here for a while and then we can decide all this later. It's no big deal. There's no pressure to be more than lovers."

For the life of him, the Goblin King could not help but smile. It was exactly like his elf to say something as innocent as all that. It was charming that Toby still functioned enough to desire in that way, and very gratifying to know that that desire was directed at him. "Lovers," he repeated, shaking his head, "Toby, you would have little or no rights down here as my lover. You would be a- a concubine, at most. I would not do that to you."

"You were going to do that anyway," Toby protested indignantly, remembering how he'd been summarily brought to the Underground.

Jareth shrugged as if it were the most understandable thing in the world. "Times were different," he said coolly, "We were both different people."

Toby studied the face in front of him. Jareth clearly felt no guilt over his possible degradation; he didn't even seem to consider that Toby might be insulted by it. "Well, okay," the human conceded, "But even if things have changed, you still don't want to marry me."

"I never said that. I would not have proposed if I never wanted to marry you."

Blue eyes casually slid away to look at the empty fireplace. "You proposed to Sarah."

Ah! So he knew about that, did he? Jareth swore a few times in his mind and then pulled Toby into his lap, efficiently arranging him so that he could look up into that young, unguarded face. Toby had grown, he noticed, which was only to be expected because the boy was only sixteen and still maturing.

"I have never," Jareth swore, "Loved Sarah. Admired her? Yes. Lusted for her? A little. But loved? No."

"Then why offer the chance? You went out of your way to win her."

"She was interesting," Jareth answering, trapping those restless fingers and bringing them to his lips to kiss, "She was regal and decisive and pretty. She was also an innocent. It seems I have a fondness for that." The flippant joke died its well-deserved death as Toby simply waited for more. "I became a King very young, Toby. And traditionally, the King takes a wife as soon as possible, to ensure heirs and such. I believed Sarah would make an admirable Queen. And I thought I could tolerate her. Marrying without a bond happens in most cases in the Underground. For all that bonds are easy to forge, they are still very complex. I would have let Sarah lead her own life after a fashion, when her duties were done, and I would have led mine."

"I don't know about you, but that sounds heartless," Toby snapped, "What's the point of marrying if you don't truly want to live your life with someone?"

The Goblin King shifted uncomfortably and if he looked as if he would rather not talk about this, he showed a remarkable interest in Toby's fingers instead. "Royal marriages are rarely for love," Jareth reminded him distractedly, "I was not even certain that I could fall in love at the time. I still have my doubts. But I do know that I want you with me and even if I saw Sarah as a logical choice, you had better feel flattered because you have been anything but!"

Toby didn't quite know whether to blush or look mortified, but the raw silk voice was loving and soft, covering him in warmth. So he blushed and looked away, hastily clearing his throat. "I, uh, get the feeling that I've been a bother," he said lamely.

"Oh yes," Jareth replied feelingly, "There are things I have done for you that even Archer would have said I was incapable of. Letting you cry buckets of tears all over me was one of them. Archer almost had a heart-attack when he heard about that."

"Archer doesn't like me," Toby remembered. It had been a sore point for quite some time and he felt it was only fair to tell Jareth not to expect great shows of exultation from that quarter.

But the Goblin King was already well aware of his cousin's reservations and he waved them away with a flick of his long fingers. "Archer is a nationalist," he said baldly, "He believes I should live for my Kingdom alone. He thinks me very irresponsible for formally binding myself to you. Had you been a woman, he would have been happy for me. But you're not, so he will sulk for a few days."

Toby giggled at the thought of the tall fairy sitting in a corner with a child-like pout on his handsome face. It was too much to hope that he would ever see it, but a boy had to have his dreams. "So we're... going through with this?"

"Do you mind?"

"Do you?"

Jareth raised a hand and tangled it in fire-blond hair. "Perhaps one day I might," he revealed, "We will argue, you know, and get things wrong. Can you stand that?"

"Jareth, how many times must I say yes!"

"I still remember being told that I would have to wait forever," Jareth teased.

Toby scowled and dared to whack him lightly on the back of his silver-blond head- "Look, I only pushed you away because I was scared. I thought those dreams were wrong and sick. What else would I say? But after the rape, you helped me. And then you sent me back and I went psycho because I couldn't spend time with you. So don't you start on about what I said in the beginning because I seem to remember you being quite a bit more sleazy too, you know."

Jareth shrugged. "Point taken. Am I still sleazy?"

Toby considered this. "Well, at least you're offering to marry me before jumping my bones. I don't know. Does that make you desperate or even more sleazy?"

"I thought it was romantic."

"I'm not a romantic kind of guy," Toby protested, "The flowers and jewellery has never been a big issue for me." He saw the look on Jareth's face. "If you show up at breakfast with a big bunch of flowers tomorrow, I'll throw them at you."

The Goblin King laughed and promised faithfully that he wouldn't. Though he had been considering it! The potential embarrassment on his young lover's face would have been enough to pull such a juvenile stunt. But he wouldn't. Though he might have something for Karen and Sarah… he quite liked both the women in Toby's family. They were much more interesting than the men. For one thing, they responded to his charming flattery. Much easier than trying to win over either Harold or Ben. Not that Ben had any objections, but Jareth got the feeling that he was tolerated rather than liked in that quarter.

"You know," Toby said suddenly, "Everyone's talked about how a mortal will manage in the Underground, but I wonder how much you'll enjoy having a mortal family as a part of your life. We do things a little different. What if you don't like that?"

"How different can it be?"

"Hmmm… as far as the wedding goes, Ben might just have to throw us a bachelor party."

Jareth began to smirk, and then he began to laugh and then he had to hold his side because he was getting a stitch from laughing with Toby still sitting in his lap. The mortal thumped him helpfully on the back and shook his head. Jareth spluttered a little but got his voice under control- "You had better ask Ben not to bother. Archer has already planned everything. And no one ever throws a bachelor party like the fairies."

"Hey! When was I going to be invited?"

"Tomorrow."

"I wasn't going to be left here like some virginal bride, was I?"

"Are you a virginal bride?"

Toby cast him a look of withering scorn.

"I never said you were," Jareth protested, "So are you still sure you want to go through with this."

"Do we have another choice?"

"Quite a few actually."

"Yes, but will it allow me some semblance of legality, along with recognition as your partner, and will it keep my parents happy enough to let me stay in the Underground until such time as you decide to send me away?"

"Put like that- no."

"Then we get married?"

"Then we will get married," Jareth promised.


	5. Bonds and Bindings

Author's Note: Well, children. We're at the part where we've been working towards for two chapters now. And finally, the day has dawned. The actual ceremony takes place in the next chapter that must be read directly after this one.

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The sky was overcast, and the day seemed the perfect blend of sunlight and shadows- an auspicious day or so Kyfrem had commented. Jareth and Hoggle had managed to do something spectacular to the Goblin King's private gardens, making the delicate fragrances drift intoxicatingly on the air that gusted through the open windows of the draughty castle. And all in the Goblin Kingdom rejoiced- more because a severely annoyed Goblin King was not the most comfortable thing to have around than because they actually liked his choice of consort.

True, there were rumours that the Goblin King's mortal was very beautiful, and true, the goblins held no animosity to those who desired a homosexual relationship. But even so, such relationships were rare in the long term and for their King to so far forget his people just to indulge his lust was ludicrous! There were calls from many quarters that the King had gone too far; the goblins had been very indulgent with Jareth's idiosyncrasies in the past, but this was Just Too Much.

The only two reasons that the dissent had remained murmurs and nothing else was that Jareth would make life miserable for anyone who questioned his decisions and that the mortal was also notoriously his bond mate. Very few inhabitants of the Underground ever married their bond mates.

As Jareth had explained it- "The marriage, or formal binding as we call it, serves as a type of created bond that is just as powerful as the psychic one- generally because most of the goblins and faeries marry at a young age, but bonds can take a whole lifetime to form. Both together rarely happens. It makes you, my elf, a very fascinating subject for my people."

Jareth spent the rest of the morning thinking of that for himself. There were times that he still could not conceive of his bond with a sixteen year old mortal. Not only that, but the damned thing had been formed when Toby was a babe in arms! Snappishly settled his jacket into a far more comfortable position, he wondered tiredly if he had perhaps stumbled into a dream and forgotten to wake up.

"You know, you can scowl out that window all you like, but those clouds won't go away."

He started and turned, shaking his moon-blond head at Sarah with a frustrated frown. "Must you sneak up on people?" he questioned irritably. Then he got a good look at her and started to smile.

Sarah took a step back and self-consciously smoothed the dress down. "It's not that bad," she muttered.

Jareth turned fully from the window and languidly took her hand, kissing the back and handing her into a chair. "Enchanting, Sarah; truly enchanting," he laughed, "But I miss the sleeves."

It was Sarah's turn to scowl and she did so with great enthusiasm, considering that the hideous dress from her one dance with the half-goblin still haunted her worst nightmares. And those sleeves! She felt almost faint even remembering them.

"Never," she pleaded seriously, "Never bring up those sleeves in my presence again. What possessed you to make me wear that dress, I don't know."

"I?" A dark, slanting eyebrow rose, quirking over an amused brown eye. "I made you wear nothing of the sort. I gave you a dream crystal laced with a forgetting spell. You would simply have lost yourself in your dreams. I could only be flattered that they included me."

Sarah blanched. "You mean?"

"Yes, Sarah. You did it all on your own." Jareth took great delight in watching the range of emotions flit across that mobile face. Even the green eyes cooled and heated according to the jumble of thoughts tangled under the prettily dressed dark hair.

Now that he thought of it, Jareth decided that he really did like the dark hair dressed simply in a sleek roll at the back, just as the grey-green gown suited her. Were he feeling poetical- and he was horribly suspicious that he was- he would have said that the colour made her eyes look enormous. But there was something missing. "Hold still," he ordered, stepping closer to run his fingers from the peak of her forehead, over her hair and round to the back of her head. She held still, probably out of curiosity, and then blinked when he smiled and nodded.

He'd been right: the simple strands of pearls imbued an exotic touch to the austere elegance. He did it once more around her slim throat and then in a winding bracelet down her bare right arm. The gold chain and locket he removed with a disdainful flick of the fingers that made her grin and then he touched up her make-up with careful fingers.

Sarah held still, knowing that under all the fierce concentration locked on her was a simple desire to focus on something over than the butterflies in the flat stomach beneath the surprisingly less formal outfit. She would have expected Jareth to wear something utterly extravagant in blue- like at the ball he had so pleasantly reminded her of. But no, Jareth was wearing simple black and white. The white shirt was a plain light silk, not frilled or fantastic, with a high rounded collar and the tips over the front of his throat cut away to fall to the first pearl button. The sleeves were loose with tight cuffs that seemed to somehow make every movement graceful. Which was all well and good, but his trousers were simply heavy black velvet, the material repeating in the long sleeveless over-tunic that he affected.

"What is this thing?" she demanded, tweaking gently at the black tunic.

Dual-coloured eyes looked startled, as if Sarah's voice had interrupted a private thought, and then smiled. "You do not like it?" Jareth purred, stepping away and pirouetting.

Sarah gasped; in the bleak sunlight, the material glowed, shimmering with wisping embroidery as it were an extension of the life around it. The tunic was cut tight to his body, highlighting the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist, and then falling in sleek gathers over his hips and thighs. Somehow, it made the Goblin King look very young.

"You really do not like it?" Jareth was enjoying himself enormously, it seemed. And really, he wouldn't have minded if Sarah had said no, for it wasn't for her that he dressed this way.

"It looks magnificent," the mortal sighed, clapping her hands and nodding. "Gee! I'd never have thought you'd wear something so..."

"Delicate?" he supplied, waving her into a seat and taking one across from her, "Why ever not? I am hardly a monster, much though I may seem it."

"Yeah, well. I guess it depends on how one meets you," Sarah pointed out, "You have to admit you were a total creep when we met."

"Rubbish! I was kindness itself," Jareth huffed, "You asked for the child to be taken and I took him. You asked for him back and I could not undo what had been done; the Underground doesn't work like that. The Rules clearly forbid it. So I made you run the Labyrinth. I put Hoggle in your path to help you..."

"To fail," she put in indignantly.

He ignored and continued- "...and even offered you a gift in exchange for not trying to kill yourself. Luckily, you were a child and the Labyrinth would not have killed you. It could have, however; which is the whole point."

"It is not the whole point! You just wanted Toby!"

"I never knew his name," Jareth pointed out reasonably, "Except that he was your brother. You were amusing in those days. Did you know? I used to watch you play sometimes, just for something to do."

Sarah sniffed and turned away, fiddling with the end of her new bracelet in her annoyance. Jareth watched her with a knowing smirk. Oh, but those green eyes were too easily read.

"Sarah, when I offered you another life, I meant it in marriage," Jareth said gently.

"What?" Sarah looked startled, her jaw dropped as if this was news to her. Which it was! She had always supposed that the Goblin King was simply throwing her off balance or playing a game of seduction. She'd been so young, she hadn't known how to play along and protect herself. So she had blustered and raged and whined like any other child in a frightening situation.

"I would have married you," he agreed, a hand brushing her knee, "I would not have used you so badly."

They sat in silence, contemplating what life might have been if she'd agreed. Jareth- since he was the one less in control of his tongue that morning- was the first to break his silence.

"You accused me of seeking to harm your brother," he began softly, "I could not have done so. Not because of any kindness on my part, but simply because it would not say much for my honour if the child had been harmed in my keeping. I do not have the power to change anyone into anything. Naturally, there are some who deserve to be turned to ants and then stepped on, but I shall not speak of them. Toby was always, and will always, be as safe in my keeping as I can contrive."

Sarah nodded silently. She had heard Toby express the same sentiments to Archer, strange though it sounded to her ears. After all, why would the Goblin King of fame and legend need protection from a scrawny little mortal? Now, glancing through the vulnerabilities in the mismatched eyes, she shuddered to imagine what would happen when or if Jareth's strong pride was ever broken. Without that pride, he seemed so defenceless; almost as if he were too breakable for the role he needed to fill.

"That's okay, then," she sighed vaguely, "Look, I think my Dad wants to talk to you so I'll just go- why are you looking like that?"

"For the love of the Gods," Jareth gulped, "Do you want to punish me in some way? Torture me? Why in the name of all that is pure would I want to speak with your father now? Especially when he is likely to be in an even worse mood than usual?"

Sarah gurgled merrily at the look of mock terror on the face of her childhood's villain. Who would have thought- Daddy really could chase the bad man away! "I think you're being a little melodramatic," she remarked.

"Melodramatic? Oh no! If I were, I would be tearing my hair out and running down the hallways screaming." Since Jareth was sitting comfortably in his chair looking very relaxed, the image was the most insane one Sarah had ever heard. "If I were being melodramatic, I would be biting my nails off and trembling like a leaf." There seemed no immediate danger of either happening so Sarah's giggles got worse. "And if I were... yes? What is it?"

Kyfrem found himself being glared down at by an exceedingly moody Goblin King. He bowed and bobbed on his heels formally. "Lord Toby asked when- and I quote- "the bloody thing is going to get off its ass and start"." Kyfrem said solemnly.

That was too much. Sarah burst into fits of helpless laughter. She could just picture her brother twitching around his room and snarling at anyone who attempted to talk to him.

"Tell him to come to the hall in fifteen minutes," Jareth grinned, running an absent hand quickly over his clothes and through his hair, "Any longer and I will have his dragged down by the scruff of his neck. Understand?"

"Yes, your majesty," Kyfrem intoned, scuttling away with a light heart. Oh, he was very glad that Jareth had taken his advice to wear that suit. Kyfrem had had it made in those few weeks when he'd been valet to the Goblin King. Jareth had never worn it but Kyfrem had known; and he'd been right! One look at him in that get-up and Lord Toby wouldn't be able to keep the smile from his face.


	6. Mingling Bloods

"Citizens and Guests, you have been gathered here today to witness the formal binding of your King to his chosen mate."

Jareth sighed impatiently and wished that the old goblin would hurry up. The Underground did not have priests- not following any religion as such- and so the celebrants for marriage were usually the head of a household or someone of great authority. As the King, Jareth was really the highest authority in the land, so he had asked his father's adviser to conduct the ceremony for him. He himself had done this often enough, and was well aware of the formal introductions that needed to be made. But he still wished the old goblin would hurry up.

"Sire," someone hissed.

Snapping out of his mental ramblings, he blinked at the expectant look on the goblin's face. "Oh." he stepped forward and ignored the sniggers he could swear Archer was indulging in at his side: "I do swear that I consent to this binding. It has my permission and is my conscious desire. All here bear witness to it."

The Celebrant nodded and Jareth sighed inwardly. Toby's turn now.

The mortal shot a panicked look at his soon-to-be husband from his corner of the low platform and twisted his fingers restlessly by his side. Jareth gave an unsympathetic smirk and turned a mock serious regard back to the Celebrant, who was well aware of the playfulness of the two before him and enjoying it quite as much as Jareth was.

Toby, unlike his counter-part in this ceremony, was ready when his cue came. Now if only he could remember what exactly he had to say: "I do swear that I consent to this binding. It, uh, has my- my permission and is my desire. All here bear witness to it."

He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and gave a small grin. Jareth didn't exactly smile back, but the look in his eyes was good enough.

The two were then asked to come to the middle and stand together. They did so, seemingly unconcerned but with identical glances of worry at each other. Jareth had explained what the next step involved and he had hunted through his books for two nights to find another way to obtain the desired result but nothing had been forthcoming. Toby was about to confront something he really wished he didn't have to; and Jareth only hoped that the boy was strong enough for it.

"Hold out your right hands, please. Thank you. Your Majesty, do you have an aide here present?"

"I do," Jareth nodded, beckoning Archer with a simple look. The fairy instantly stepped forward and pulled an ancient jewelled dagger from the beautifully wrought leather sheath at his side. Toby shivered and Jareth took his hand in a firm grip as he took the knife and positioned it over his palm.

Moving quickly, he put a shallow cut in the soft flesh. Toby flinched and tugged a little to draw his hand back, but Jareth wouldn't let him and he steadied himself. He made a silent vow to throw every knife in the near vicinity out the window when the day was done.

But the worst had not happened yet. Jareth handed him the dagger and held out his own hand. Toby looked from the wickedly sharp edges to the delicate white skin. Flashes of what had happened the last time he had held a knife raced through his mind, accompanied by a pair of evil dark eyes and the suffusing sense of shame and helpless rage. He took a step back and almost dropped the instrument, the gathered crowd of nobles and Ivory Tower humans gasping behind him in shock.

Jareth could have cared less about the shocked nobles and the humans from the Ivory Tower; he knew what was going on beneath that golden hair. He could only imagine what memories the singular touch of a knife might bring from the shadowy trauma that Toby refused to talk about even with him.

"Your Majesty, is everything all right?" the old goblin asked, concerned and not a little suspicious.

Jareth held up a hand for silence and simply waited. "Toby, we can stop now if that is what you want."

"The knife..."

"You have my permission for this, my elf. You won't hurt me, I promise you," the Goblin King murmured, "Come here."

Toby came willingly enough, letting himself be wrapped in a gentle embrace even while his senses screamed at him to make Jareth stop. The Goblin King was dooming himself, he knew. No one touched him but was poisoned; no one should have to touch him. He should have died.

"Take your time," Jareth whispered.

Toby laid his head against a safe shoulder and wished that he had the strength for this. Strength... what was it that Jareth had said about strength?

_"After the ceremony, the bond will strengthen to the maximum. We will share emotions and awareness, perhaps even thoughts. And I will have your strength, my elf, for those times when I have not the heart to do what needs to be done."_

Which was all well and good, but Toby knew that Jareth was the strong one. After all, he kept breaking down while Jareth was patience itself with helping him stay sane. Just look at how he was embarrassing him even in front of his entire Kingdom!

"I'm okay," Toby sighed, "Let's get on with it, hmmm? I'm okay now."

Jareth held him at arms' length and ran a trained eye over his face. "Are you sure?"

"Perfectly. Now give me your hand and stop wasting time," Toby grinned.

Jareth chuckled, but obliged him, nodding to a very relieved Celebrant that the binding would go ahead as planned. The dagger was a little unsteady against his hand, and it hovered for two breathes too long, but Toby was very certain when he made the shallow cut.

Toby made a slight sound of disbelief in his throat at the sight of the blood, but Jareth quickly took the knife from him and gave it back to Archer. He sent a speaking look of thanks to his cousin and received a congratulatory smile in return.

The old goblin took a cut palm in each hand and looked sharply from one to the other. That the blood was flowing was fine, but the incisions needed to be deep enough for this step. It could create all sorts of problems if it didn't go as planned. But the tears in the flesh were fine. Jareth's was a little ragged on one corner but with the squeamishness displayed by the human, it was only to be expected.

He let them go with a satisfied nod. Smiling and looking from one to the other, he then bade them clasp hands and mingle blood.

Toby could have sworn that he could actually feel Jareth's blood flowing into his body, and it felt like the most amazing euphoria of his life. Similarly he heard Jareth give a soft gasp and saw his eyelashes flutter closed for a moment.

A whisper of approving murmurs filled the room behind them, as the witnessing nobles and Underground humans signalled their delight at the romance of the situation. It made Toby blush and Jareth smile as their awareness returned. Jareth looked to Toby's family, watchful in case he met disapproval in their eyes. But Karen was slightly tear-dampened and Harold was stiff but not forbidding. Whatever Jareth had said to him in the privacy of his library the night before had evidently borne fruit; the man was resigned to his son being, as he called it, someone's wife.

But the formal binding was not over yet. The Celebrant signalled to the guards around the room to close the curtains and light the numerous sconces of candles.

Semi-darkness was another bad hurdle as far as Toby was concerned, one that Jareth had not considered. He could see the fear begin to widen the blue eyes, and the faltering tremble in the small hands. Working swiftly, he took Toby by the arm and nodded to the Celebrant.

The goblin waved a hand and murmured a string of harsh calls to the magic around them, reaching out a hand to curl into the air around the apprehensive mortal. Archer spared Toby a wince of sympathy. He could well imagine how terrifying it would be for someone who wasn't used to such things.

Toby locked his eyes firmly with the Goblin King's, refusing to let himself fall backwards into fear. It was his wedding, damn it! And he'd make sure it was completed, never mind horrible prickly feelings all over his skin. And then he stared and looked down.

"What the hell?" he gasped.

"I did tell you that your aura would be called upon," Jareth reminded him, "Do try not to forget everything in the heat of the moment."

Toby glared at him but smiled, relaxing as his fears were laid to rest for the moment. He looked down again with not a little interest in the blue threads of glowing light that wrapped around himself. It showed up even more considering that it was a lighter blue than his coat. He traced one of the threads on his shoulder and shivered as it sent an erotic sparkle through his nerves.

"Sire?"

Jareth tore his eyes from Toby's heavy-lidded eyes and blinked at the smirking Celebrant. He brought his own aura up to the surface himself, knowing how to control it. The silver threads were already reaching out to twine with the eager blue ones between them. The bond was still strong evidently, and gaining in strength by the minute.

He waited for a few minutes as the Celebrant addressed a few quick words to the witnesses and spoke the lines of blessing on the union. Then, reaching his cue, he picked one of the silver lights off his chest and guided it with his fingertips to his bond mate's heart. It would hurt Toby for a moment, he knew, but the pain would be worth it.

"From my heart to yours," he promised softly.

Toby bit his lip as the silver burrowed into him, slipping past cloth and flesh to infiltrate his blood and his soul. The world spun on its axis for a moment and then stopped with deathly stillness as the numbness seeped away. Filled with the most profound sense of being loved, he almost stumbled, but righted himself with a hand out to stop Jareth from touching him.

It was like a drugging haze that magnified everything. He could see patterns now; everything was brighter than it had ever been before. People were brighter, as if glowing with their own personal light- something he'd never noticed before this.

Taking a deep breath, he willed a strand to be solid to his touch and held it to Jareth's heart in a mirror image of the half-goblin.

"From my heart to yours," he echoed.

Jareth held his breath against the quick sting of the liking, but the pain was almost instantly eradicated by a sudden surge of feeling. He could feel his bond mate, feel everything that his bond mate felt and understand it.

The rest of the world could have crashed and burned around them at that moment, but they would have remained oblivious. Archer hid a smile behind his hand at the first purely honest look he'd ever seen on his cousin's face. Brown eyes narrowed in speculation at the look on the mortal's face, however, and darkened slightly with sadness.

Jareth saw Toby open his mouth and then shut it again, his words unspoken. The connection between them was humming with emotion and in his heart he knew it was happiness. It had to be; there was nothing else left to them at that moment. So he did the only thing he could- he took the mortal in his arms and brought his lips down as a healing gift. Toby accepted hungrily, sighing slightly as feeling poured right through him.

A lady somewhere gave a loud sob and a goblin guard flicked away a tear. Sarah was clinging to Ben's arm and Harold tightened his grip on Karen's hand as she tried to stop her mascara from running. The Celebrant stepped away respectfully to stand beside Archer, leaving the newly bound couple on their own.

Toby broke away first and rested his heated brow against Jareth's shoulder for a minute before nodding to a whispered question. Jareth wrapped an arm around his elf's shoulders and turned to lead him out. The sight of his audience stopped him for a moment.

"All present here have borne witness," he said clearly, the words echoing around the stone chamber, "This man has my love, my life and my soul. There shall be no parting us."

The witnesses kept silent, sensing the raw emotion in the deep voice. The two exited, holding a soft conversation under their breathes that none but the two of them could hear. And the room held respectful stillness until they were gone.

Sarah let out a deep breath as the nobles began to make their way from the room. The little knot of Aboveground humans were left to their own devises, being foreign and rather condescended to in spite of Jareth's express threats against any who showed them discourtesy.

Ben slipped his arm around his wife's shoulder and hugged her gently. "So now what," he asked, "Where are we supposed to go from here?"

"The ballroom," Archer answered, coming up behind them. The dagger was tucked discreetly back into its sheath on his belt. "Tradition dictates a celebration for all the witnesses. The entire Kingdom will be drinking until dawn."

Everyone looked up at the clusters of crystals that floated around the place like little soap bubbles. Jareth had explained that a Goblin King's formal binding was of necessity witnessed by all his people, which meant that the crystals were links to every household in the country.

Archer sighed and ushered them out, leading them without words down the corridor to a door with an elaborately carved question mark on it. Sarah almost expected the bird perched on a vine to start to sing. "This door opens to whatsoever room you desire to entire," the Fairy Lord explained, inviting them through it with a courtly bow, "Convenient for when one is playing games as a child."

Sarah couldn't imagine Jareth ever being a child. Especially not with those eyes; they were far too knowing. It was almost as if the Goblin King had always known the ways of the world even before his conception.

Following Karen's lead, Sarah was a little self-conscious to be standing in the room with the humans of the Underground- all Jareth's Wished-aways, apparently; the humans were the ones who had also been sucked into her dream dance with the Goblin King. They were every bit as raucous and wild as she remembered them, sweeping around with beautiful clothes and shallow smiles. Jareth kept them physically well and let them steep in their own vices in the Ivory Tower. It was rather sad, when one thought about it. She recognized the aging face of a woman with beautiful red hair curling around her face, full red lips pulling into a slight smile as the lady nodded sweetly to her and then danced away with her partner.

Jareth and Toby were talking to about four young goblins that were only up to Toby's waist, looking down and smiling. But Toby excused himself and bounded to them, shining like the sun he was supposed to represent and grinning like the elf Jareth accused him of being.

"Family!" he cried, launching himself at them, "I wondered where you'd got to."

Karen hugged him back, laughing as the youth he seemed to have lost made a brief reappearance. "We got lost in your Castle, dear. Sorry we took so long."

"It isn't my Castle, mom," Toby protested, "I haven't agreed to co-rule, you know. I'm just his husband. They only call me Lord out of respect. But I don't think it's my Castle."

"Yes, it is," Karen insisted, tucking a loose strand of golden hair behind an ear, "You are his mate, now. What he has is yours whether you accept it or not. And don't you take anything less!"

Toby smiled at that. "I won't," he promised, "Hey, Sarah, Ben; glad you could come."

"As if we'd miss it," Sarah quipped, "I mean, what? My baby brother just got married or bound or what-have-you to the Goblin King!"

"You keep saying that," Toby grinned, "And oh, God, yes! I just got married, didn't I? But it... I can't explain it but it feels like so much more. I can't describe it."

Harold clapped his son on the shoulder and nodded behind him. "We hope you two will have a good life together, Toby. But I think you will."

An arm slipped around the tiny waist, pulling him close to Jareth's side as the half-goblin took his place with possessive enjoyment. Toby came very close to rolling his eyes but didn't, stifling it and sticking his tongue out at Ben's humorous grin.

But apart from the blatant caress, the Goblin King's face was bland and controlled. Holding one hand out to Harold and keeping the other exactly where it was. "Thank you," he said simply, "I believe we will."

"Congratulations, Jareth," Sarah teased, "You've finally got exactly what you've always wanted- my baby brother. And now he really will be one of you forever. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Jareth retorted, "While I am glad you could make it, you must excuse us. The first dance is traditionally to be opened by us. Perhaps you'll join in?"

Toby twinkled back at them but followed his husband happily enough. Until a thought struck him- "We're dancing together? Two guys are going to slow dance? Why haven't you mentioned dancing before and who's the girl?"

Jareth sent a mocking glace down his slight partner and smirked wickedly. "Just follow my lead," he murmured, swinging Toby into his arms and firmly taking the lead.

"Why do I have to be the girl?"

"You're not. But I am leading. Therefore you have to follow."

"Well, why can't I lead?"

"Do you not think that it would look strange if the Goblin King were to be led around the dance floor by his shorter- need I add mortal- partner?"

Toby growled a warning, but it passed as Jareth threw back his head and laughed at the righteous indignation. The half-goblin pulled his bond mate closer and nuzzled lightly at his ear, bringing a very amusing blush to the mortal's face. After that, there was no chance that he would stop dancing. Every so often he would stop to speak with his guests and every so often they would part ways and go to separate sides of the room to talk to separate people. But eventually, they always gravitated back to each other, whether they meant to or not.

Toby found it freeing to be able to take Jareth's hand in public or to find a white hand take gentle hold of his shoulder; and the emotions that pulsed through the both of them were enough to make his head swim. He knew Jareth could feel his giddiness, and he in his turn could feel Jareth's steadying sensitivities. After all, the King could not do and say whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, even if that King was Jareth. There were certain boundaries to be preserved and for Jareth's sake he preserved them.

Jareth, for his part, was not aware of any restrictions he was imposing. But then he did feel rather much older than his bond mate who was a study in childish good humour and mature grace. Relaxing with an old gentleman from his father's reign, he enjoyed a 'proper' argument peppered with juvenile name-calling and frequent expletives. It only ended when Toby breezed past them, stopped, listened to the point in question and remarked that the argument was ridiculous all things considered, after which he breezed away again. The crusty old man had chuckled and promised one day he'd get the better of 'that little boy'.

Wine and food circulated all evening on golden trays, carefully fluted crystal glasses raised numerous times in ever more sordid salutations to the formally bound couple. Jareth simply laughed them off, replying in kind to most of them but managing to deflect the attention with a few skilled sentences.

Karen and Harold found themselves taken in hand by a young goblin noblewoman called Cornelia and introduced to everything. She told them all about Jareth- most of which no parent should ever have told them when their child was involved- and related all the gossip of the Goblin Court. By the time Karen stood up to dance with Archer, she was sending the unaware Goblin King some very searching looks.

"Is your cousin quite sane?" she asked bluntly.

Archer looked a little nonplussed, but repressed a laugh at her distasteful face. "I think he is, Mrs. Williams. However, I do not see him as much as I would like any more, so I may be mistaken."

Karen blinked but then relaxed and laughed ruefully. "I've just heard some rather dreadful things about him. Does he really lock all his human captives in an Ivory Tower in the middle of nowhere?"

"Well, yes," Archer acknowledged, trying to see where the problem lay, "They are wished to his care and he provides for them."

"By locking them in a Tower?" Karen was very dubious about the generosity of such a course of action. "Couldn't he give children to a family of some kind? Perhaps let the adults roam free?"

"Oh Gods, no! There are very few families that welcome unrelated mortals into their homes. Mortals are not held in high esteem, you know. It is the sole point that both goblin and fairy agree on. As for allowing them freedom, such a thing is simply not possible. The Labyrinth is not a friendly place. Even goblins do not traverse its pathways unless needful."

"Oh. Well, if it is to protect them," Karen agreed reluctantly, "But what about his- his affairs? Has he really been with so many men and women?"

"Naturally," Archer replied in surprise, "Jareth is four hundred and fifty one. He lives alone and, until Toby, had no other form of companionship. The Kingdom would have been worried if he had not had his mistresses."

Karen raised an arch eyebrow and leaned closer. "It's not his mistresses I'm worried about," she confided, "But I heard he was with a transvestite."

Archer stifled and laughed and directed their steps to a more private corner of the dance floor. He was enjoying himself, all things considered, and he couldn't wait until he brought this up with Jareth later on. "Henry was very popular," he explained, "Jareth was very lucky she chose him." The fairy Lord sounded as if such a thing was the most reasonable in the world. "In fact, she's here today. If you want to know- that is Henry."

Karen stopped to stare at an attractive woman sitting at the side of the room with a cluster of men around her. She was older than most of the young men at her side, but the skilful use of make-up hid a lot of the fine lines that Karen guessed at. The rich chestnut hair was coiled charmingly at the base of her slender neck, a few select curls falling around her face and onto her bare shoulders. The creature looked every bit a lady, with a sweet smile but a palpably sexual air. But on closer inspection, the hands were too broad and the features a little too masculine.

"Henry was Jareth's first lover, I believe," Archer murmured, unable to help stoking the fires, "That's right! He was eighteen. His father was not very happy about it, I remember. It took all Jareth's persuasion to smooth the matter satisfactorily." Archer spared a thought to such simple times. Times without mortals and bond mates. Times that were easy and fluid and needed nothing but companionship.

"And he- she- slept in the Castle?"

"Of course. Do not humans do the same?"

For which Archer was treated to a short, pithy lecture on the morality of humans and how they do not- and Karen was emphatic with the 'not'- keep mistresses or transvestites in such a public manner. Lovers were fine; but no man would keep a woman at his family home... or even a man if he bent that way. Archer sat back and enjoyed himself.

Toby managed to get away once people stopped making embarrassing remarks to him. He had even managed to get away from a woman from the Ivory Tower who wanted to know if Jareth still did that wonderful thing with his fingers, to which he'd evaded the issue and asked about the style of her hair. Sarah eventually found him still perched in the window seat, a dreamy expression on his face and his gaze pitched somewhere amongst the dancers where his husband was being the good host he hated being. She stood to the side for a few minutes and watched him think.

Toby shivered when he thought back to that dark evening in the park. He had fought that evening, refusing to simply give in and let it happen. It had cost him dearly, more dearly than he liked to think. Being raped had seemed almost an afterthought to him. Everything after the beating had seemed so. Until his final torment...

He shivered again. It had been like waking from a nightmare to see his Goblin King singing softly above him. And was that why he loved him?

Toby couldn't be sure. But he was certain that it had started years before, when a Goblin King had sat a mortal infant on his lap and played with him. He'd always loved him; he knew that now. No one else had even stood a chance! Which was why Elaine hadn't worked. That was also why he had fought so hard against it- having grown up believing it was wrong, he simply couldn't put himself in the hands of someone he'd never heard was any good. But then Jareth had saved him. Time and again, he'd held him safe. He'd made him feel worthwhile. And he'd shown him love like Toby had never thought to know.

"Are you done moping in a corner?"

"Hey, Sarah. Don't you have someone else to bother?"

She pulled his ponytail and whacked his knee. "Don't be rude to your older and infinitely wiser sister. I just wanted to get you while I still could. Listen, I know you've already said the 'I do's' and whatever, but you're sure, right? This is what you want?"

Toby touched the spot on his chest that still ached slightly from the binding. "Yeah. Couldn't live my life if it wasn't with him."

"It sounds kind of funny to hear you say that," Sarah sighed, "Especially considering what's happened to you in the past six months."

Toby flinched. He didn't want to think about any of that, especially not when he was facing another terrifying ordeal- his wedding night. True, they had discussed it and Jareth had simply told him that they would just go to sleep, seeing as how the couple were usually too tired to do more than that. Toby held his tongue, hoping Sarah would get the hint and drop the subject.

But Sarah was nothing if not persistent. And she needed him to think about this before anything else happened. "Toby, you were raped. Repeatedly. By someone who didn't care a damn about you. Jareth might not do that to you, but he's also no saint. And you're not exactly stable yet. Are you sure you can handle this?"

"I don't know," Toby answered slowly, "I just know when I'm not with him I can't breathe. Even if you don't believe me, the only person left in the world that it won't scare me to death to sleep with is Jareth. And not because it's not scary- it is- but because I desire it more than hate it."

"So you're saying you're really in love with him?"

"I think I always have been. I've just never told anyone that, least of all this Goblin King who I was told was a complete bastard." He gave his sister a dirty look. Sarah had the grace to look sheepish.

"So if you feel so great about tonight," she said mischievously, "I'm sure you'll be quite happy to know it's almost the eleventh hour."

Toby looked blankly at her.

"Gee, you're well informed! It's the custom here that at the eleventh hour, the newlyweds leave the celebrations for their bedroom with a very public send-off and a lot of very loud well-wishes. Sometimes people accompany them to their bed, but I don't think Jareth will let that happen."

"Public?"

"Very public."

"Oh hell!"

The clock struck and everyone turned to stare at the enormous clock that stood in the corner. Toby stared at it like a deer caught in the headlights of a particularly fast car. Once the last deep gong faded off into the silence, an enormous cheer went up. Crystals rained down from the ceiling, spilling jewellery and other expensive tokens amongst the guests.

Jareth came to retrieve his blushing partner with an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid it's tradition," he whispered.

"So is wedding cake but we didn't have that!"

"Have fun, you two," Sarah called, watching as they got to the centre of the room before they were mobbed. Toby had abandoned the deer-at-bay look for the look of a rabbit thrown in amongst ravenous foxes.

The Goblin King was a little more used to it and graciously nodded to everything everyone said and kept moving. Feeling Toby's distress through the newly established mental link, he neatly decided on a way to mover quicker without putting anyone out of spirits. He stopped, shrugged to his bond mate and then picked him up.

Toby almost had a heart attack on the spot. "What the hell are you doing?" he yelled in Jareth's ear, clinging to his husband for dear life, for if Jareth dropped him now, he'd get trampled on for sure.

"Relax, luv. It will be quicker," Jareth called back.

Someone said something particularly crude and Toby decided that he liked being up in Jareth's arms because he was in the perfect position to kick that someone 'by mistake' and apologize profusely without meaning a word of it.

Eventually they made it out of the crowd and through the door with the carved question mark. Jareth put his bond mate down and Toby ran for it, not stopping until he collapsed onto Jareth's bed with an audible huff. The bang of the door sounded especially loud.

"They're all gone," the mortal sighed, "Yes! God, listen to all that beautiful silence."

Jareth smiled and pulled him up on the bed, gently running a hand through the slightly curly gold hair. "Well?" he asked finally.

Blue eyes opened and looked at him, drowsy and halfway to sleep all ready. "I am far too sleepy," Toby muttered, "Can we go to sleep?"

"Why not?" Jareth grinned, still stroking the soft hair he adored so much, "Go to sleep. We have the rest of our lives to live tomorrow."


	7. Next Morning

Waking up was profoundly satisfying; or at least, for a certain Goblin King it was. He was lying in a very awkward position, it was true, and the arm being currently used as a pillow was numbed; but all in all it was a good morning.

And Toby was beautiful.

By the harsh light of the day, Toby seemed to look even better, curled on his side and breathing deeply, still wearing his clothes from the night before. Jareth hadn't ever lied when he'd confessed to loving his elf. Whether that love would burn as bright through the long years of their lives was yet to be seen; but Jareth by nature was single-minded about love until such time as the love changed or faded. It had always been so. He didn't intend to change now.

He smiled up at the canopied ceiling. His cousin had been most amusing the night before. And better than that, Archer had been happy for them. True, Jareth sensed something between them that might prove problematic later on, but it was not something necessarily hostile or negative. He had decided to ignore it, and keep Archer's friendship any way he could.

Sound broke into his thoughts as Toby mumbled something beside him and moved closer. It was enough for Jareth to lean down. "What was that?"

"I said," the boy spoke up sleepily, "Go back to sleep!"

Jareth sighed and closed his eyes. A four-hundred-and-fifty-one-year old immortal and he had just married a sixteen-year-old human! Was he insane?

"Yes. Now go to sleep!"

Toby waited for the jumbled thoughts of his lover to die down but they didn't. And now he was awake too. And what was more, Jareth sensed that and didn't bother controlling his own mind so that now both were feeding off each other and simply making a mess through the connection. Toby growled in warning and opened one eye balefully. "It's your fault," he said thickly.

Jareth grinned and shrugged, getting out of bed and padding noiselessly into the bathroom. Toby heard the sudden splash of water and jerked upright. A bath? Why was Jareth taking a bath in the middle of the night? Or more specifically, the morning. Though… no, Toby didn't really mind Jareth bathing. The longer the half-goblin took, the better! The morning could be awkward after all and he wasn't fully conscious yet to deal with anything that Jareth might- possibly- need from him.

Especially, he decided, if he got the whole bed to himself.

Jareth came back cleaned and tidied to find his spot on the bed now occupied by a bond mate sprawled across his space. At any other time he would have stood by and watched. Since he still felt vaguely as if he'd been crushed under a large rock, he wanted to go to sleep himself.

"Toby, push over," he commanded.

"No. Comfy here."

"Which is why I want it back."

"Nope."

"Toby!" Jareth growled loud enough that Toby opened a very blue eye and smirked up at him. "Toby, I want to go back to sleep now. Please."

The mortal gave a mock grumble and moved over, letting Jareth back in. But the next second he was back, his head cushioned on the half-goblin's chest and sighing contentedly. Jareth gave up. "I should call you a minx instead of an elf," he threatened, beginning to stroke a golden shoulder. The calming movements served to push the loose shirt completely off said shoulder, sending small trickles of sensation over his fingertips. Toby squirmed on top of him.

"You could just call me Toby, you know."

"Ah, but where would be the fun in that," Jareth mocked sweetly, "Besides, I like elves. I currently like you too. So if I call you an elf, I get two things I like at once."

"Greedy," Toby commented.

"No, manipulative," Jareth corrected.

"Is there a point to this conversation?"

They lay in silence for a while more, too unused to the situation to move much. Jareth busied himself with stroking the thin shoulder, gently massaging the lithe muscle beneath his fingertips. Now that the marriage had been completed, he seemed strangely reluctant to continue in the same intimate manner he had always used with his bond mate. Almost apathetic.

Toby knew what it was, but didn't dare say so. He felt Jareth worrying and felt his own discomfort increase. He knew what Jareth would look like naked; he knew how he would taste. They had always shared that feeling of being old lovers. But the point was that they weren't. They had never done more than kiss in reality. All their knowledge came through dreams. And Toby wanted- for Jareth's sake- to make it real, but he didn't know how.

Silently, he slid his hand out from under his head and traced a sequence of circles on hard ribs. Jareth's fingers became increasingly languid, caressing skin where he had been stroking it. Toby shivered and brought his fingers higher, writing his name on cool cotton. Those white fingers fluttered maddeningly just inside the neck of his slipped shirt, tickling his arm with hints of pressure. Toby stroked his forefinger over a nipple.

The white hand rose to tangle in thick golden hair and Jareth gently lifted his head for a kiss. It was delicate and chaste, like the brush of a butterfly's wing across the sensitive lines of Toby's mouth. It could have gone on forever or never happened at all. And that was all that Jareth asked for.

Pulling away, the Goblin King sat up and stretched leisurely. "Are you getting up?" he asked casually.

Toby looked apprehensive, as if he'd been struck.

So Jareth sat on the edge and caressed his face, gently suppressed all the warring thoughts in his head. "Tonight," he murmured, "I do not want you to feel pressured. We have a day to come to terms with all of this and we will take it. Tonight is soon enough for me."

Toby nodded and climbed off the rumpled sheets, stopping to drop a quick kiss on Jareth's cheek before pulling random clothes out of the closet and going to get ready in the bathroom. The Goblin King stared at the closed door for a long moment, contemplating following him and showing him just how much he really desired him. But no, that would only serve to scare the child. And he had been right- the coming night would come soon and Jareth could wait that long. He would be quite happy for it himself. Weddings always disturbed his peace of mind, never mind his own wedding.

By the time their stomachs drove them out of the bedchamber it was late morning or early afternoon- neither were sure which. Toby, however, was having a hard time concentrating on anything Jareth said, preferring to retreat into his thoughts as if he were trying to disappear into himself. Jareth said nothing at first, even though he felt something that seemed very close to shame and wretchedness infiltrate his bones from his bond mate's direction.

They set off down the bare halls in silence, occasionally meeting a stray goblin servant who would giggle nervously and leave with numerous bows. It made the mortal very uncomfortable to be wondered about. Particularly since he'd overheard Jareth tell Harold that the staff in the Castle might know his tormentor. It terrified him to think that the mystery man could be watching him.

He didn't notice the hard sideways glance from the corner of Jareth's eye. Or that the hand that had twitched towards him was restrained and clenched close to a tan-clothed thigh. But he did sidle closer towards the warmth of his lover, suddenly cold in the sunlight and relaxing only when the cool white fingers wrapped tight around his.

"I won't let him hurt you," the Goblin King whispered, neither turning his head nor giving the least sign of holding a serious conversation. "He can no longer enter your mind because I will know it. He will not be permitted close enough to see you, let alone touch you."

Toby nodded absently, not troubling to tell Jareth that the man had promised he could always find him. It didn't count, he knew, but the man had told him that. He shuddered to think of what would happen now. And as Archer had said, his tormentor would never stop until he was dead or worse. Which was fine because that would be all that would remain when Jareth finally tired of him as he was bound to do.

'_Your Jareth wants no part of you, not after what I've done to you... poisoned being... unclean... worthless and unworthy..._'

The words were screamed in his head, thrown in an inner rage to that wide-open door in his head that connected him to his bond mate, shrieking to Jareth to see what he was now bound now.

'_Monster... does Jareth know that? That his tragic angel is a monster? Oh, but how you've deceived him..._'

Jareth gasped and stumbled, whipping around to stare at Toby as if actually seeing him for the first time. Toby cringed away, his eyes on the floor, wishing that the half-goblin would hurry and send him away in disgrace. His heart was breaking and it hurt so much that if Jareth didn't hurry, there would be nothing of him left to send away.

Jareth's mind whirled, staggering under the weight of what Toby had been replaying in his mind for countless days, worn into a particular groove, running in a circle that spoke of long habit and acquaintance. The very hiss of the words sickened him and he couldn't understand why Toby hadn't said anything before. Thinking quickly, he apparated them both down to his garden.

Toby still wouldn't look at him, moving away when he tried to touch him, turning away when he asked him to look up.

Jareth was very fast reaching his wit's end, and his temper was remaining by a very thin thread. "Tell me you do not believe that," he finally asked.

Toby hunched even more, trying to huddle physically into that corner of his mind that he always retreated to when he remembered. The healed scar on his stomach burned like acid eating at his skin.

"Toby, say something."

The mortal shook his head, letting his fears timidly touch Jareth's mind. He couldn't speak; he really couldn't! What if the man was watching for him, waiting for him? He had married Jareth against everything and what would happen now- he would be hurt even worse even though there was no possible way to top the last time he had seen him. "You don't know," since when had his mouth been open, "You haven't felt."

"I know what it is to be hurt," Jareth retorted, "My first time was not particularly pleasant either. My..." something slammed shut in Jareth's mind, making Toby jump, "The one I was with overlooked my inexperience and ended up injuring me. I can understand a bit of your pain."

"No," Toby snapped shakily, "You've never been raped. You've experienced only a bit, a tiny bit. Yeah, he tore me open. He took me without- without even bothering whether it hurt. No, scratch that; he deliberately made sure it hurt! Do you know what that's like? I may be worthless; I may be dirt, but- but he made me that way. He- he took me and ravaged me and- and made me do things..."

Jareth caught the slender body as it feel, soothing away the hurt by pouring as much as he had inside him into Toby, letting the care and comfort wash over them both for as long as the sickness spread its poison.

"I want to tell you what happened that night," Toby said clearly.

Jareth looked doubtful. Toby had not even liked to mention that night, let alone tell him what had occurred. Anything connected to violence or knives or blood sent the mortal into a semi-trance that took forever to break through. Talking about it meant reliving it, and Jareth was not quite certain that either were ready.

"I thought I was safe..."

"Toby, you don't need to do this."

"I thought I was safe," Toby repeated with a determined glint in his blue eyes, "So I went for a walk to the park. I used to play there. I used to love the place and it- it reminded me of you. I was just sitting there, doing nothing when he came. I didn't even see him at first; I just felt something touch the back of my neck. But I was leaning against a tree and I thought- you know- ants or something. I made to stand and then next thing I know, a hand reached into my pocket, pulled out your knife and held it to my throat. I tried to fight, Jareth, I swear it. He's bigger than me and he had the knife even though he didn't use it then. I fought harder that day. That's why I was so broken up; he wouldn't stop hitting me. Again and again until I was spitting blood. But not in the face. He said I had to keep looking good for him."

The desperate voice cracked at the last word, plainly terrified as his eyes widened at the sight of something Jareth would never see except in a nightmare.

"He put the knife to my throat again. He said I had a choice- I could get my throat slit first and die with him raping me, or I could let him rape me and die after that."

"What did you tell him?" Jareth asked quietly, almost light-headed with the effort to keep the sanity within both their minds, battling the terror and depression from his bond mate at the same time.

Toby clung tight and buried his face against his hands. "I told him that if he didn't kill me I would do anything for him." Toby had never hated himself more than at this point, sitting before his bond mate and husband guilty of offering himself to another. "I- I said that I would please him, that all he had to do was ask and that he didn't need to force me. I was so frightened, Jareth. I- I just wanted him to stop. I'm sorry."

Jareth silently pulled the child closer. He'd forgotten just how very young Toby was. "You were in danger," he reasoned, "You tried to save yourself. There is nothing to forgive."

"He just laughed," Toby burst out, "Said he didn't give a toss about my consent because he wanted- he wanted to see me bleeding and begging. He called me a whore and said he would treat me like one."

Jareth flinched at the crude term spat out in such bitter hatred, but he pulled Toby even closer if that were possible. Toby didn't seem conscious of where or how he was.

"He made me strip, right there in the park. I was coughing up blood, but he didn't care. I could barely move, my ribs hurt so bad. He- he pushed me against a tree and- and used me. I was hurting so much, but then I was naked in a public park and being raped, Jareth. I was so ashamed! He was in me, infecting me, and all I could think of was that it felt like I was falling down a black hole and I wondered if someone would catch me. But no one did and I was hurting. And to tell my parents!"

"It's over," Jareth urged, "He's gone."

Toby ignored the statement. "Do you know what happened next?"

"Good God, there's more?" Jareth had known it was bad, but never this bad.

Toby looked around at the peaceful pleasantness of the garden, admiring the greenery and the dappled light filtering through between the feathery trees. It seemed so very sacrilegious to disturb it with his misery.

"He made me get on my knees with the knife at my throat and touch myself. He said if I didn't, then he would take me again. I was already bleeding. I was in pain. I tried to do what he wanted but I was so scared. I made myself think of you, think of your hands touching me. It shouldn't have worked. I didn't expect it to. And then it did. But I said your name when I- you know- and he didn't like that. He got so angry. He said things."

Jareth could hear a few of them in his head. "Is that when he made you believe I stopped wanting you? Those words were what he said to you?"

Toby nodded, his eyes squeezing shut on tears. He refused to cry any more over the bastard. He had sworn never to do so again. No matter what happened, he would not cry for him if he could help it.

"He- he said I was a worthless bitch; that I had only one use- to be someone's plaything. He said I was poison to everyone I touched. He told me he should kill me as a public service. He kept saying things, really soft. I couldn't understand it. He raped me again. He said he wouldn't but he did. I don't know what happened, but afterwards, when he was finished, he threw the knife at me and said that I was too pathetic to kill. He said I was worse than dead already. Why did he say that, Jareth? Did I do something wrong? Am I poison?"

"You're not poison; you couldn't be. I told you- clean and bright as the sunlight you descend from. He is no one to you, Toby. Never think that again. You are not poison, luv. You aren't; I swear it."

Jareth could only hold him tight and rock him, feeling the weight of the weary head nestled between his neck and shoulder, the cold shudders wracking a body that had been riddled with pain for far too long.

Archer was taking a simple stroll through the grounds of the Castle. He'd been called the Heir to the Goblin King ever since it looked as if Jareth would never produce heirs. Well, so he would not be the heir anymore, because Jareth had Toby and everyone knew they were bound to- "Gods above, what happened?"

Jareth looked up at the exclamation. Toby only had time to wipe his eyes before Archer was upon them, soft brown eyes anxious and worried as he knelt beside his cousin.

"Never tell me there was another attack?" he demanded, looking over Toby's body with a quick eye.

"No attack," Jareth reassured, "We were just talking. Archer, if you could find your way to somewhere that is not here?"

"Of course. I crave your pardon, cousin," Archer answered instantly, standing with a nod and turning to go.

"No, no, it's all right," Toby called out, looking up and struggling to his feet, "Jareth, I'm going to go find Sarah or my parents. I think a talk with them will do me good. You and Archer can probably do with a conversation yourselves. I'll- I'll see you later?"

"We weren't done."

Toby shook his head and deliberately wouldn't look at Archer.

Jareth relented somewhat. "I still don't like letting you walk anywhere alone," Jareth frowned, "Especially in the condition you are in."

"Jareth, I keep telling you- don't call it a condition! You make it sound like I'm pregnant or suffering from double pneumonia," Toby shouted, stamping his foot. The quick sting of hurt distinctively seeped through their new link, forcing the traumatized mortal to slump and grip his skull in his hands for a moment. "I'm sorry," he sighed thickly, "I'm just really mad, I think. You talk to Archer. If I need you, I'll call, okay?"

Jareth nodded. But once Toby's back was turned, he sent a crystal rolling after him. Archer raised an enquiring eyebrow. "Tracking devise," the half-goblin explained succinctly.

The Goblin King got to his feet and magicked the grass stains off his grey leggings. His boots getting muddy were one thing, but actual clothing? Never!

"May I lend an ear to aid your thoughts?" Archer asked, folding his arms and staring intently at his cousin's face, "You look as if you would like to murder someone."

"Toby just told me what happened to him the last time," Jareth growled, "He gave a general description a few weeks ago, but this was far too detailed for my peace of mind- what that bastard said and did to him!"

"If I can ask..." Archer suggested delicately.

"He beat him!" Jareth was so enraged he was making miniature earthquakes all around the Labyrinth, "So badly he broke bones. The child was coughing blood when he raped him against a tree. He humiliated him. If that was not enough, he forced a masturbation on him!"

"Toby had to touch him?" Archer was confused.

"Toby had to touch himself. In that state! He was expected to find pleasure with a knife at his throat! By the Gods, but I will kill him! Everything he did to Toby will be nothing to what I'll do to him." Jareth's last oath contained so much power that he levelled four trees in one fell swoop.

"Calm yourself, Jareth," Archer admonished, "I know it is terrible, but there is no point destroying the Kingdom for the sake of a rage."

"What care I for the Kingdom," Jareth snarled, "You know as well as I do that it does not matter to me either way if I were King or not."

"Perhaps you should step down then," Archer joked, trying to take Jareth's mind off the information he had just received. "It would give you more time to devote to you new family."

The Goblin King snorted. "I am chaining Toby to my wrist whether he likes it or not and whether I am King or not. The rest of that family is Aboveground and will be perfectly fine on their own. I do not intend to get involved with them."

Archer blinked in shock before taking his cousin's arm and compassionately motioning for him to sit down on the nearest seat. The Goblin King looked suspicious but evidently decided to wait it out. "Cousin, in all your studies, you know male-to-male bonding is rare for the ruling classes," Archer began slowly.

Jareth nodded.

"A formal binding is even more rare. Indeed, it has happened but once before and no evidence exists of that except legend, at which scholars scoff for the poetic exaggerations of the minstrels. Are you aware of that?"

Jareth nodded again.

"But it is not as rare amongst the common people, be it goblin or fairy."

"Archer, what is the point?"

"The point is that according to the standards set by the common people, male couples who are bonded and formally bound to each other are capable of raising a family of their own."

Jareth simply looked confused and rather irritable.

"Jareth, don't you remember what can happen with a bond and binding combination?"

Jareth couldn't think clearly. He really couldn't. He could still hear his lover and Toby wasn't anywhere near his family. He was somewhere alone, reliving the torment he had been through, all on his own. He shouldn't be alone, the Goblin King thought savagely, he shouldn't be left on his own at all. But Toby needed the time to himself. He was talking to himself, reasoning it out, facing a few demons on his own. So Jareth shook his head distractedly.

"Your Toby might- even now- be carrying your child," Archer concluded with a sigh.

Jareth was tempted to laugh but it didn't sound quite so funny. Then he was tempted to disbelieve every word but Archer had never yet lied to him and the Fairy Lord's face promised this was no joke. Besides, he remembered telling Archer himself when he'd first found out. And he had been suitably sceptical at the time. But now it seemed too disturbingly possible.

"Toby and I... I mean, Toby will... Toby might..." Jareth ended by swearing.

"I take it you are not pleased."

"Toby is certainly not carrying my child as yet, of that I am sure. He was not ready for it, you see. But if we were... if I were to... this is bloody ridiculous!"

"I had thought it would please you," Archer pointed out whimsically, "I should not have mentioned it?"

"No, no, thank the Gods you did," Jareth muttered fervently, "I had completely forgotten. I might have acted as with any other man." Absently he conjured a set of crystals and began to twirl them in his hand, watching them dance under the guidance of his dexterous fingers.

"But Jareth, you would be a father. And you would still beget heirs for the Kingdom- strong sons or daughters to protect your people and guide them." Archer could not understand this hesitation against what was essentially good news. True, he knew not if it would truly occur, but if the chance were there, surely Jareth should be glad of it?

"Archer, think! How could I rush a pregnancy on a sixteen-year-old mortal boy who has been repeatedly raped and tormented for six months? And he has barely settled it in his mind that he is married to another male. I don't even know if he can tolerate being lovers. If I tell him this... it's unthinkable. He will kill me!"

"What's unthinkable?" Sarah asked, popping her head around a tree and jumping over a fallen one to join the two men, "And why will Toby kill you?"

Archer respectfully relinquished his seat to a lady. Jareth was still too shocked to register anything except that Sarah was now a part of this conspiracy against him.

"Jareth has just received some astonishing news," Archer explained. "No, it does not include harm to your brother, Lady Sarah."

Jareth snorted derisively and kept staring intently at a single rose on a bush a few feet away. Without warning, the innocent flower suddenly exploded into a thousand shreds of soft red petals, scattering forlornly over the bush and the grass below.

Sarah nodded slowly. "If this is about Toby, I'd like to know."

"Toby might bear my children."

"I'm sorry, I thought you said Toby was going to get pregnant with you."

Mismatched eyes looked tiredly to her and a dark brow quirked in affirmation.

"What? Jareth, he's a guy! He's incapable of having children!"

"What's going on here?" Karen called out gaily, rounding a hedge and dragging her husband behind her.

"Toby," Sarah said in a daze, still sitting like a statue and staring at another rose in her line of vision. Luckily, she didn't have the power to make hers explode. "He can't have children."

"Of course, Sarah," Harold sighed, "He's a man!"

"There are exceptions in the Underground," Archer informed him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I have cast no slur upon your son, Mr. Williams. I have said there are exceptions in the Underground to men birthing children by other men."

"Bloody hell! My son is pregnant?"

"Hush, Harold! Jareth, this is all some mistake, isn't it? A misunderstanding?"

"I can't believe it," Sarah broke in, muttering as she wrung her hands in her lap, "Toby's having a baby! My little brother is going to give birth!"

Archer was convinced that the mortal family was mad. "Nothing has been confirmed," he soothed.

"Jareth?" Karen repeated, "How is it biologically possible for Toby to have your child? For one thing, you're both males! It's impossible for you to impregnate him!"

"Mortals," Archer sighed mournfully, "So concerned with possibilities. Mrs. Williams, a male couple can raise a family if they are bonded and formally bound. It is a rare phenomenon but if the couple are close enough."

"You're not that close, right?" Harold put in hopefully.

"Of course not," Sarah sighed morosely, "They only spend every moment together. Oh God, how will Toby give birth? He has no... well, I suppose they could do a C-section."

"It grows in," Archer provided helpfully.

"He'll have terrible back pain," Karen added, caught up in the thought, "He's so small that he'll probably have to stay in bed for the last few months. Oh, and his contractions! His hips are far too narrow for birthing; it will have to be a C-section or he will suffer the pain terribly. Better let him take the drugs."

"They might not have them here," Harold reminded her, "And why are we discussing this? It won't happen. My son is not going to give birth!"

Jareth stopped staring at the rose bush and stood up. "Toby is not pregnant," he snapped, "He has had no means to become so as of now. Whether he ever will be is a concept beyond my knowledge. Now quiet! I've had enough of the lot of you."

So saying, he left, deep in thought about Toby being forced to suffer all kinds of agony because of a stupid pregnancy that he had knowingly forced on him. He had never even wanted to be a father. He shuddered at the thought of his own. Oh, he would never be that to his son, should he have one. How would he do? What would he do? How would the poor child cope with two traumatized males as parents?

Toby had made his way to the lake and was sitting on some rocks on the banks, content to let the peace and stillness settle his pounding head. He had come to some level of understanding: yes, it had hurt. Yes, he'd been terrified, humiliated and tormented. But that was over now; he no longer had to worry about any of that. Besides, even if it did happen again, there were so many reasons to forget it and not stick a knife in himself. He was married and he was loved and if anyone tried to hurt him again, he could either call Jareth or draw on his magic to protect himself.

"Toby?" Jareth.

"Here."

"May I join you?"

"It's a free country," Toby answered thoughtlessly, "Or not, seeing as how you rule it."

"Why is everyone so concerned about my Kingship today," Jareth wondered aloud, sitting on a rock next to his bond mate, "I am quite well aware of it, thank you."

"All right, all right. Don't get snippy."

Jareth looked to Toby, Toby looked back, and then they both stared at the lake. It wasn't so much that they had nothing to say but that they had too much. And everything they did have to say seemed unimportant.

How long they sat there neither ever remembered. But it had been interesting to sit side by side and just feel each other, feel what they were feeling and feel what they were thinking. The lake itself seemed to invite them to hold a shimmering kind of calm as sacred.

So there they sat, side-by-side, sharing nothing and everything while the rest of the Kingdom either recovered from hangovers or from the news that their Goblin King might just have not messed up as badly as they had thought. After all, they concluded, there might be heirs yet.


	8. Getting it Right

Author's Note: What is this obsession with Archer! I would have expected more from you all! Hmmm, but about the rapist being torn apart... all in good time, my friends. All in good time.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"So what you're saying is that I can get pregnant," Toby sighed.

The two were in their bedchamber, Jareth leaning against the door and Toby sitting on the bed. The fire-blond had just been told the news about his new status in life. And he was taking it rather well.

"Well, that's good news for you, I guess," he remarked, looking to his husband, "I'm glad."

"Glad?" Jareth was not quite sure he was hearing this. "You don't mind?"

Toby shrugged. "Why should I?" he asked, "It will make you happy. I want you to be happy. And I know I said I won't rule with you but if there's something I can do for the Kingdom... well, count it done!"

The Goblin King pushed himself off the door, walking carefully towards his lover- or the one he hoped would be his lover- and knelt before him. "Toby, you understand what this entails? You are sixteen, my elf. I will not make you do this."

A deliciously wide mouth with tip-tilted corners smiled. Jareth watched in fascination as the smile travelled up over the mouth and the muscles of the hollowed cheeks, stopping far short of even reaching the icy blue eyes. "You're not making me do a thing," Toby laughed, "I'm offering. If you want a child, then fine- we'll have a child. Do you think he'll have your eyes? I hope so. And your mouth... that way everyone will want to kiss him." He leaned forward to suit action to words, but the movement was cold and bland.

Jareth let it continue for a while, waiting to see what his bond mate would do, waiting for realization to come crashing in at what he was really proposing, but nothing happened. Toby's tongue slipped into his mouth, caressing and sweeping in equal measures, his hands drawing the two of them closer and ever closer.

Jareth pushed away and stood up, backing a few steps. "That," he said sadly, "Was exactly what I never wanted from you."

Toby growled and smacked his fist on the bed with a soft 'whump'. "I'm trying," he hissed, "I'm sorry if I'm not like your other lovers, but I'm trying!"

"Other lovers?" Jareth felt his own irrational temper flare. Why was everyone so obsessed with his sex life? "What does my past have to do with this?"

"Obviously I'm not good enough," the mortal spat, "I can't even kiss you right."

"Your kiss would have been fine, if you had meant it," Jareth snapped. A moment later he regretted the words. He pinched the bridge of his nose in thought, sighing at himself for his lack of control.

"Toby, you have nothing to prove to me."

"Fine. I won't kiss you again."

Mismatched eyes watched the lithe golden figure stride to the door of their closet and tear it open, disappearing inside for a few moments before re-emerging with clean clothes. Toby tossed them defiantly on the bed and stared at Jareth. Jareth stared back with an unspoken challenge.

Toby shrugged and turned away. "Watch then," he sighed, "I'm sure you'll see more than enough of me for the next few months." He wriggled out of his shirt and tried to stop the little shiver that shot down his spine. It was Jareth, he told himself, he had no need to fear him. But his hands couldn't pick up the clean shirt fast enough and in his haste he almost dropped it.

Jareth contemplated leaving to relieve some tension on the nearest goblin but decided it would not solve anything. Meeting his problems head-on was never one of his specialities either. So how exactly was he to calm his bond mate's fears while proving that he did indeed find him desirable? He pursed his mouth in thought, gently closing the door between their minds to do some private thinking.

Toby stopped dead, eyes wide as he felt Jareth retreat from him. Frantically he reached around for him, feeling blindly for any presence in his mind at all, but nothing. He turned, throwing an enquiring look at the person in question frowning slightly to himself in thought. "Was there something wrong?" Toby was proud of himself for sounding so casual.

Dual-coloured eyes looked up absently. "Nothing at all, my elf," Jareth murmured, casting a long sultry look over the half-bared figure before him. Ah yes. The Goblin King smirked gently, feeling a bit like his old self again. Seduction, he exulted wickedly, was his game. And he played a damn good hand!

Strolling casually to his husband, long white fingers reached out to pull the shirt closed, unhurriedly doing up the buttons as if it were the most normal thing in the world. And he deliberately kept his hands objective; no tender brushes against skin or any contact held far too long; that was the amateur's wisdom. No, he needed to soothe; and he was very good at being non-threatening where Toby was concerned.

Toby peered suspiciously up into Jareth's down-turned face. The Goblin King was no innocent- he was well aware of that- so why was there a singularly angelic look softening the sharp features. He didn't trust Jareth when he was like this!

"Have I done something wrong, luv?"

Toby almost fell over. 'Non-threatening' his left eyeball! That was a bedroom voice if ever he had heard one! It rumbled out like a tiger at play, dangerous and oh so full of sensual possibilities. "I think you've done quite enough," Toby snapped firmly, "I can dress myself, thanks."

Jareth shrugged, the muscle of his shoulders rolling easily beneath the loose shirt he wore. "As you wish," he purred again, eyes gleaming with private laughter as he turned and walked from the room.

Toby sat down on the bed with a huff. If ever there was a more infuriating half-goblin...

Dinner was, in a word, interesting that evening. None of his family was actually looking him in the eye and it got on his nerves, Jareth was his most charming self and rather unpredictable all at the same time, and Archer was sitting back in his chair with an infuriating smirk on his handsome face. Toby almost screamed and threw the chicken. "Archer, tell us about the fairies," he finally ground out, stopping himself from adding, 'before I strangle someone for something to do'. "Are they very much like the goblins?"

Archer sipped his wine and shook his head. "Not in the least," he declared, a sideways glance tossed to his cousin, "For one thing we don't live in damp, draughty old castles like this! The palace of the Fairy Queen is the most beautiful ever seen, made from glittering stone inlaid with marble. Flags fly bravely from the ramparts and guards stand smart and straight in their bright armour. The gardens are extensive, planted with the most magnificent blossoms and fruit trees. And on sunny days, the lawns are dotted with beautiful nobles dressed in the finest silks and satins. No stuffy leather trews and dirty jerkins in the Fairy Kingdom, Master Elf; nothing but tasteful elegance."

"Opulence, you mean," Jareth laughed, "After all, does one really need a coat with fifteen capes to the shoulders? Or even those absurdly large earrings that Sutton wore the last time I visited your beloved Queen. What were they- emeralds?"

"Rubies," Archer grinned, "I wore an emerald."

"So you did," Jareth smirked, "And that single earring in your left ear would have bought five of your starving poor ten meals and a bed."

"Ah, but when I buy a earring, I ensure that I spend the same amount on my starving poor."

"In which case they are still cheated, for you could have then paid for ten instead of five."

Karen and Harold looked from one to the other as the retorts flew easily across the table. Clearly this mock argument had been held many times. And from the look on Jareth's face, he was expecting to win again.

"Let me remind you that you enjoy my hospitality many times in the year," Archer growled mischievously, "The next time you show your face at my door, I'll feed you bread and water and give your feast to the poor. How would you like that?"

"Very well," Jareth teased, "I would eat it with them. The company would finally be congenial."

"Are you implying that you do not find the company congenial when I invite others to honour your worthless presence in my house?" Archer raised a delicately arched eyebrow, trying very hard not to smile but unable to stop his full lips from twitching. He had abandoned his usual uniform of tunic and leggings for a coat and breeches, as was the goblin custom, seemingly as comfortable in them as Jareth.

Jareth seemed to think about that, the brown leather jacket tight enough to reveal every flex of his body. But his eyes when he raised them from his dinner turned to Toby's blue gaze and not Archer's brown one. "There is no company in your land that is more congenial than what I now enjoy, my dear cousin. You might remember that."

Archer hurriedly buried his nose in his goblet and frantically gulped at his wine, hoping to keep his laughter at bay for a while more. The poor mortal, he noticed, was blushing red and looking rather as if he didn't know whether to take Jareth seriously or not. Poor Toby, he mourned cheerfully, the poor dear was getting the full force of Jareth's rather enigmatic personality.

Sarah and Ben were not present, having treated this trip to the Underground in the light of the honeymoon they had been denied, and were currently locked in their suite- which Jareth had thoughtfully made sure would be miles from any of the others- and Karen and Harold decided they could not sit and listen a moment longer. They were happy for their son, but really! They weren't that happy yet!

Jareth bid his guests a courteous goodnight and summoned the servants only to tell them to retire for the night. "I will see to it from now on," he dismissed.

The goblins bowed, looked doubtful and ran.

"Brandy?" Jareth offered, picking up an oddly shaped bottle filled with a rich, dark liquid that seemed to glitter dully in the light of the candles.

Archer decided to intervene. He reached across the table and covered Toby's goblet lightly with his warrior's hand. "Jareth, enough," he warned, "The child is not an alcoholic."

Jareth raised his eyebrows in innocent enquiry but obligingly put the bottle aside. He lifted the silver cork and put it back in the mouth, blinking sweetly at his cousin in a self-satisfied way.

Toby gave up. "Okay, what the hell is going on here?" he demanded, getting to his feet to confront his composed husband.

"Nothing, my elf," Jareth murmured, looking up with a single flick of his eyes. The blue of one iris glowed in the dusky golden light, the other dulled to a darker brown. On anyone else, it would have looked peculiar. But on Jareth- as the sharp canines emerged for a moment in a contemplative smile- it looked as if Toby was about to be devoured whole.

"I, ah, must ask you to excuse me," Archer interrupted hurriedly, "I leave in the morning and I must rest tonight. Best of dreams, Jareth; Toby." He all but ran from the room, confident that he did not want to be there when those two finally got on with easing all that tension between them. And knowing his cousin- which he did- he was confident that it would be messy, noisy and something he did not want to witness.

Toby watched Archer leave and then turned back to Jareth with a determined scowl. "Talk," he threatened.

"Very well. What about?" Jareth enquired, still sitting in his seat with a leg curled under him and a smirk on his pale lips. "The weather?"

"About why you're sitting there like a damned Cheshire cat!"

"Ah! Now that is something that words were never made to express."

"Well, they'd better start. Or I'm going to scream and hit you."

"Such violence; such passion... tell me, will you punish me if I refuse to talk?"

"Only if you ask for it," Toby snapped.

The Goblin King smiled, a razor-sharp smile full of delight, "My dear," he murmured, "I'm positively begging!"

In spite of himself, the theatrically camp exclamation made the mortal snort, then smile and then fall into Jareth's lap still laughing. "You idiot," he gasped, managing a weak blow to the fairy's chest, "God, I should spank you for that."

"Oh, I see. A taste for games, have we? Perhaps I can remedy that," Jareth commented sweetly, trapping his lover's hands unexpectedly and pinning them behind his back. When he let go, however, Toby found he still couldn't move his hands.

"Jareth, what are you doing?"

"Magic," Jareth explained, fingers already busy with undoing the fastenings of Toby's coat.

Toby squirmed, felt Jareth move right along beneath him and stopped. "I, uh, didn't... did I?"

"Did you what, my elf?" The deep voice purred out again, tickling the skin of his neck as the fingers pushed the heavy material as far off his shoulders as it could go. "I dare swear you will wriggle against me many more times tonight."

"Jareth, what are you doing?"

Jareth's answer was to rip his shirt open down the front, tearing some of the buttons in the process. The cold air billowing against his rapidly heating skin was almost shocking in the extreme; it made him realize what exactly was going on. But by then, Jareth was skimming the surface of his palms over flat curves, not quite touching enough to bring any sensation beyond the vague.

Toby squirmed again and tugged desperately on his hands. They wouldn't move. "Jareth, let me go," he snapped, very real fear in his voice.

Mismatched eyes rose to gaze intently at him. "We must work on your poor memory, my elf," Jareth sighed, looking serious in spite of the comfortingly light words, "I did tell you that you now share my power, did I not? You may undo that spell yourself."

"Great!" Toby snarled, "Except I can't do magic."

"In that case- all you need to do," Jareth explained, suddenly very clinical and schoolteacher-ish as he leaned forward to trace a finger over the trapped wrists, "Is to find your centre. Once you have found it, you may command it as you will. Naturally you will need to practise for control and efficiency, but that will come in time."

"My centre, huh? Okay, then... let's see." Toby closed his eyes and searched through everything inside himself. He could feel his heart thudding softly in his chest, beating faster than normal because of fear and desire. He could feel the thin bands of energy wrapped around his wrists and the cold air swirling between his body and Jareth.

And he could feel Jareth. Everywhere, really- the Goblin King was solid and ethereal beneath his thighs, warmth emanating from him to temper the cold breeze, the delicate touch of his watchful presence flickering softly in Toby's mind. There was raw desire as well, now that the mortal looked, seeping into him from the link between them. It was the kind of desire that made you feel you would be ravished and ravaged, drained of everything you contained before your partner was fully satisfied, the kind of desire that brought forth howling screams to the moon.

"Is that you?" Quite possibly that was the single stupidest question Toby had ever asked in his life. But so far as he was concerned, it was the only one that mattered at the moment. "Why?"

"Open your eyes," Jareth whispered, arms sliding around him and breath warm on his cheek.

Toby obeyed, starting with surprise to find himself in their bed once more, still seated on Jareth's lap with his hands crossed at the wrist behind him. A finger flicked impatiently at the energy bands and with something that sounded very like a sizzle they vanished, leaving the boy free to bring his hands around and touch the hand resting on his waist.

"Could you feel it?" Jareth asked, confident that he had but knowing he needed to acknowledge it. "You did forget, my elf. You forgot you could feel me inside you."

The very words sounded as if they were already naked and making love. Toby shivered slightly.

'..._the only person left in the world it won't scare me to death to sleep with is Jareth. And not because it's not scary- it is- but because I love him enough to desire it more than hate it_.'

God, but he wanted him!

He leaned forward, softly touching his lips to Jareth's cheek, feeling the skin soft beneath his mouth. He flicked out the tip of his tongue and tasted it. Jareth still smelt of pine and smoke, and the scent reminded him of all those nights when Jareth had let him cry and held him tight, from nights when Jareth had woken him screaming from nightmares to cuddle him until dawn- all those tender things that the cold Goblin King would likely never want another living soul to know about.

"I still remember them too," the Goblin King whispered, "You were such an innocent."

"I'm sorry I can't give you my innocence," Toby sighed, "I wish I was a virgin."

Jareth chuckled and pulled away to look at him. "I never thought I'd meet a mortal didn't want to have sex as soon as he reached puberty."

Toby grinned back, feeling slightly more balanced with Jareth's humour. He could still feel the desire pulsing through him. It made things unbearably uncomfortable in certain ways, and now that he knew how to feel his husband's emotions, he couldn't stop doing it. "Some of us are not sex-crazed, you know." He sobered up to trace a dark, slanting eyebrow. "I've had a girlfriend. But I was never really dying to get in her pants. I thought it was just the way I was; you know some guys just don't. And it wasn't like I was lusting after the guys in the gym locker room either. But then you... and those dreams were getting worse. It sounds stupid, but I think I've always kind of been waiting for you. Maybe because of the bond- who knows. But I only ever feel this way with you."

"Toby, we can go very slow tonight," Jareth answered breathlessly, not willing to show just how unbelievably sexy that little touch of romance was, "Or we can wait." Toby squirmed on top on him, seemingly thinking deeply of something. "Screw that! We can go very slow but I demand the rights of a husband!"

Toby giggled and nodded. "All I am is yours," he agreed demurely.

The next instant he was flat on his back and being kissed as if the whole world would burn if their lips ever parted. Jareth was not precisely on top of him, but then one hand was engaged in grasping his hip and pulling him closer. And he let it happen, willing to learn to handle it. It wasn't like his body gave him much choice in the matter. The tongue in his mouth was doing the most magnificent things, distracting him enough that he barely felt it when Jareth magicked their clothes off them.

"One day," Jareth whispered, breaking from Toby's mouth to talk, "We will hold off long enough to undress like civilized beings."

"Not civilized," Toby insisted, "sex-crazed!"

Talk flew out the wide-open window. The star-less sky seemed particularly dark that night with no moon to light the way, purplish grey clouds swathing the inky blackness in purposeful warning. It was a warm night, still as the dead and grimy with heat and humidity.

Jareth raised his head once more to look down at his handiwork. Electric blue eyes gazed back at him in drugged adoration, bright as the warm pale-honey skin. A wide, wide mouth beckoned him back, hungry for more. A beautiful mouth all things considered; made to smile, made to kiss. He remembered it cold and bloodless beneath his, remembered imagining it mobile and responsive.

And nothing had ever come close to the way reality felt.

"Toby, if I ask to take you, will you refuse me?" he asked, hoarse with longing, achingly hard and craving his consort with a passion that defied all logic.

"Nothing," Toby promised, "Just... how does the pregnancy thing work?"

"Oh."

"You forgot, did you?" Toby smiled, watching annoyance and longing cross the sharp features in equal measures. "Jareth, I don't think we should have to wait because of 'maybe-s'; do you? We'll handle it tomorrow."

"Wonderful idea," Jareth agreed, swooping down to bite at that swollen lower lip, "It seems I've married a very wise man."

"You better believe it!"

Hands moved and Jareth gently took his time manoeuvring them both to a comfortable position. It would, of course, be less painful for his lover to lie on his stomach. But he wanted to see him; he wanted to know the minute something went wrong. So he let him stay on his back.

Toby kept his eyes closed, timid and shy about what was going to happen. And not only because of the rape, for this was his first time. He had never gone beyond third base with Elaine because he had never really wanted to. And now he was a little uncertain as to what he was to do. But it seemed Jareth had had plenty of practise with this. Ten minutes later, the fingers inside him were driving him wild. He was helplessly bucking, calling Jareth's name in a breathy whimper and Jareth wouldn't stop until he found release. Then, and only then, did the Goblin King judge it safe enough to gently push in.

Toby stiffened, naturally, but his recent exertions had left him lethargic and relaxed. It did hurt. But that didn't seem to matter when Jareth obviously found it so pleasurable. And anyway, he had felt worse before and this he could handle. At first they simply fit together, adjusting to each other in silence and shared control.

And then the control shifted.

How the Goblin King managed to keep his sanity was beyond his ability to remember. But the boy had been so sweet, so very wanton as he squirmed and wriggled beneath him that he had almost thrown caution to the thunderstorm outside his window and ploughed straight into him. But somehow the movements remained slow and gentle, building them both up to the orgasm that they were impatient for. And as the waves grew higher, so too did the storm, echoing them as it drove relentlessly at the earth.

Slow, so slow, and the entire universe was wrapped around them, cocooning them in something that stretched beyond them to life itself.

And when ecstasy overtook them, Toby knew without a shadow of doubt that this night was not going to pass into their memories without a sign from the cosmos that it was blessed.


	9. Amongst the Graves

"Sarah, can I speak to you?"

Sarah looked away from the mirror she'd been using and waved to Ben to open the door.

Ben sighed, pulled his robe closer and opened the door with a decided growl. But since his brother-in-law was bouncing nervously outside the door and wringing his hands, he stepped back in resignation. "Come in," he said, "I was just leaving."

"In a bathrobe?" Toby asked, forgetting his panic to send a practised look up and down the tall figure.

Ben sniffed regally and sailed out, ignoring such a question as entirely beneath him.

"Well," Sarah commented, meeting Toby's eyes, "I think he's finally lost his mind."

"I've always said he never had any," Toby shrugged.

The woman wagged a finger at him. "I would not go there," Sarah warned, "Considering you married a man who steals little children!"

"He never stole me!"

"Stealing, granting wishes... it's all one and the same. Not saying he doesn't have a reason, but he does take far too much delight in it."

Toby opened his mouth to protest and then closed it with a snap. He stood there, patently uncomfortable in the centre of the room, clearly unsure of how to phrase what he was there to say.

Sarah watched him anxiously in the mirror, finally turning around with a slight frown. "Is there something wrong? You look a little funny."

Again the wide mouth opened, and shut a second later.

"Toby, you've eventually got to say it. What's happened?"

Blue eyes peeped out from behind a lock of bright gold hair. "Um, I think Jareth doesn't want a child?"

There was a soft thud as Sarah's legs gave out and she was obliged to sit very hurriedly on the floor. "You're not... with Jareth's child?" She caught herself up short and raised a hand. "I don't want to know the details."

"Oh good! Because you really believed I was going to describe my sex life to you? Did you know Jareth's back is really sensitive?" The boy stared in some vindictive satisfaction when his sister cowered with her hands over her ears. Ah yes! All those times he'd unexpectedly walked into the kitchen or living room only to see Sarah and her fiancé at it were finally revenged. But that wasn't the point. "Sarah, I'm done. You can stop trying to not listen to me 'cause I really need your help." He sat down on the floor beside her, taking care to shut the door in his mind so that Jareth wouldn't find out.

Sarah tucked her knees beneath her and folded her arms. "Well, it's quite normal," she allowed, "You and Jareth haven't even slept together yet. And you do need some time to adjust to living together before baby makes three."

"We, uh, had a Last Night," Toby informed her shortly, a rather peculiar expression on his face. "And everything seemed to be fine. He was perfectly normal with the sex. It was this morning that he went weird. I don't think he got any sleep last night. I asked him what was wrong and he wouldn't answer me. Just shook his head and said he needed to do some thinking."

"And what makes you think this has anything to do with children?"

"Sarah, I haven't done anything to him to make him like this. The only explanation I can find is just this feeling that he doesn't want kids. "

"But where does this feeling come from?" Sarah pressed.

"It's just a little ray of sunshine in my head," Toby snapped, sounding as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Sarah looked intently at him. Had this been a younger sister or something, it would be surreal enough, but Toby was very male. Though, logic reminded her, he was married. And Karen had always taught them that with marriage traditionally came children. And if he wasn't too young to get married- which apparently Jareth could veto anyway as the Goblin King- then it followed that he could very well have a child if he so wanted. But the problem was- was he having a child?

"Sarah?" Toby waved a hand in front of her face, wondering if he should slap her yet. He'd read somewhere that a well-timed slap could bring a person out of hysteria. But he didn't really like slapping his sister; she tended to model her next storybook villain on whoever did that. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. And you're sure- about this feeling?"

"Yes. He's even cut his mind off from me. He doesn't do that and he shouldn't, not so soon after it's just begun. I don't want to do something he'll hate because everything's just starting for us, but unless I tell him to stay away from me in bed... well, there's really nothing I can do about this."

"And you're sure it's not anything else?"

Toby grimaced. "To be honest, no. I'm not sure. Maybe it's me. Maybe I did something. Or didn't do something, because… but you don't want to know. Right. Sorry. Do you think it's me?"

"I don't know, Toby. It just seems strange that you think he doesn't want kids. He just seemed unhappy that you could get pregnant."

"Yeah, but see, that's it! That's what bothering me! Everything would have been fine until this pregnancy thing came along. And then he got weird. I mean, he was weird before, but not like this. And then he gave me this speech about how he wouldn't ask me to do that and it's not like I've ever given him reason to think that I won't do what I have to do."

"You don't have to get pregnant."

"We're not even sure I can get pregnant," Toby shot back, "Jareth got worked up over nothing. It's a creepy thought but if it happens, it happens. Like I said, there's nothing I can do about it now. Not after the ceremony and everything. Or do you think they have the Pill? Do they? Or I could get it from Aboveground, couldn't I? But what if they don't and the Pill doesn't work. Do you think Jareth would… no, condoms are out."

Sarah grimaced. "You know, I read up some stuff and you really should use protection until you're sure you can't catch something. Nothing wrong with Jareth, but you don't know what diseases the Underground has."

"Jareth's clean. He said he got examined and there's nothing here that could really be fatal for me. A little itchy, maybe, but nothing that can't be cured."

Sarah held up her hands in resignation. "It's up to you."

"Sarah, would you ask Ben to wear condoms?"

"No. But we're happy to have children if that comes around," she pointed out.

Toby gave her a dirty look but ceded the point. He couldn't even explain why he felt the way he did but something was definitely wrong. Jareth wasn't allowing that link to stay open and that worried him; it was too early in their marriage to be bored with it. And after all the talk of keeping watch over Toby and making sure no one touched him, he didn't think Jareth would just shut himself away for no good reason. And the only thing Jareth could possibly be reacting to would be the possibility of children.

Toby didn't really want them either. But his mother had always brought him up to think that they were a traditional part of marriage and hey, if it happened, it happened! He couldn't help it! What was he supposed to do- say no? He didn't really want to, horrible as it sounded!

"Oh God!" he gasped, a thought occurring, "Do you think Jareth will make me get an abortion? Do they have them? I heard they were dangerous! I don't want an abortion."

Sarah pushed her dark braid off her shoulder and leaned forward, patting his shoulder calmingly. "Relax, Toby. Jareth won't ask you to do anything dangerous."

"Yes, but he's just a little insane right now. Can't you talk to him?"

"Me! I'm not talking to him for you. You married him; you talk to him. Isn't it easier with the sharing minds thing?"

"We are not currently sharing anything," Toby snapped, tapping his head, "Well, what do I do? Give me some advice here. I tried asking him but he wouldn't tell me. He won't let me into his head and frankly, I'd rather not pry because it hurts like all hell and I know what that's like."

"It could just clear up soon," Sarah suggested, "Wait a few days, I think. If you still feel like this then go ask Arienne about the Pill or something."

"I actually didn't want to ask Arienne because then Jareth might find out. I don't think it's something he talks about."

"Toby, is there some reason you think Jareth won't want the child?"

There were so many things he could say to that: he could say that Jareth didn't like children, which would be ironic considering his job description and the fact he had bonded with an infant. He could say that they didn't want to share their new life with someone else just yet, but that was just stupid. He could say that he thought Jareth had an issue in particular with His Child. "It's just a feeling," he answered restlessly.

"A feeling," Sarah echoed. Really, was nothing to go right for these two? She had never met a more complicated couple before. They'd end by choking each other on their issues! "And what feeling exactly."

"The one that tells me he might not be as happy as I would want."

He pulled absently on his fingers, tracing imaginary designs in the carpet with his eyes. A hand landed firmly on his, stilling it.

Looking up, he met a pair of very determined grey eyes. "Go talk to him again," Sarah advised, "You won't do any good sitting around here on the floor. You don't have to ask him outright; just hint at it. If he freaks out, you have your answer. If he doesn't, you're home free."

"Yes, mother," Toby smiled, "Can I have my hand back?"

"Gladly! Now run away."

Toby obligingly took to his heels and walked sedately from the room.

Meanwhile, in a tree not too far from the Castle, Jareth was currently ensconced on a branch and staring out to his Labyrinth.

"Jareth, are you coming down?" Archer. Wasn't his cousin supposed to have left already?

The Goblin King stayed silent beyond a flick of his eyes down to the dark-haired figure at the base of his tree. Looking away, he gave himself back up to morbid memories.

"Jareth, sitting in a tree will not help you," Archer called softly, "Come down, my dear. Talk to me."

"Archer, leave me be. It's none of your concern." It was a hateful thing to say, and Jareth hated himself for saying it. Archer was the one who had always had to put up his traumas. Why was nothing ever easy? Oh, he had a fairly good idea why, his parents being what they were, the world being what it was, and now what if something happened?

"Jareth, please?"

A hand outstretched and he took it, leaping down to land in a noiseless crouch at his cousin's feet. He straightened only to find himself captured securely in a warm embrace.

"Were you thinking of him?"

Jareth shut his eyes. He shouldn't be thinking these things. He wasn't his father; or his mother, thank the Gods, though she had never hurt him like that. But then she had almost been as bad, had she not? Hadn't she?

Sighing softly, the half-goblin nodded. "His voice, Archer. The way he looked. Everything's come back."

"Are you getting nightmares again?"

"No. I refused to sleep. And I couldn't risk Toby seeing them." Jareth took a deep breath. "It should be a whole lot easier, don't you think?"

Hands gently massaged the slender back, easing the tension from tired muscles and forcing Jareth to relax against the larger body holding him up. "You should tell him," the Fairy Lord advised, "No, do not stare as if I had grown another head. He is your mate; he deserves to know."

"No one deserves to know anything," Jareth growled, pulling away and stalking back towards the Castle, "This is my secret! It is my shame and I bear it alone."

"You bear it with me."

"Because you saw! I never said a word, Archer. You know it. He told my mother in strictest privacy. She told the cousin I had never met and so you came looking for me. You pitied me!" The suppressed violence in the voice would have struck fear in any goblin or fairy who happened to pass. But Archer was not a renowned warrior just for having a handy way with a sword. And he carried his sword by his side. Jareth wouldn't touch him in any case, no matter what was said.

"I pitied a thirteen year old child," Archer soothed, "I do not pity you now."

"Why? When I am so much more deserving of it?"

Toby stopped as the hysterical shout rang through the forest. Cogwheel had told him where to find the Goblin King and he had followed, hoping to catch him before he took off to wherever it was he was going next. He had not expected to hear him raving like a lunatic! And whom the bloody hell was he shouting at?

Holding his breath, the human moved carefully through the forest, drawn by the voices and the sound of snapping twigs as two people acted out an argument amongst the trees. No birds sang and no creatures ever came here. There was nothing here but deathly quiet, the ground interspersed with the unmarked graves of the long-dead monarchs of the goblins. Jareth himself would lie here one day, when his time came. But not now, that Toby was set on, not now.

"...I cannot keep doing this! I cannot keep this memory."

"Then let it go." Archer's voice? What was Archer still doing in the Goblin Kingdom? He had said his goodbyes this morning. "Why do you cling to it? Those who aided it are dead too, you saw to that when you took the throne. That Bog of yours is the only physical memory of what happened."

"I was too young." Toby bit his tongue and crept forward. He had never heard his husband sound so helpless. So close to him and he could feel the agony emanate from him even through the shut connection. "What if it happens again?"

"It won't. I don't understand why you imagine it would."

"It will. I can feel it."

"Jareth…"

"I can see it!"

"It has been over four hundred years and you still remember?"

"How could I forget? I remember all of it. The bastard shall not... he won't! Not any more."

"Calm down!"

"Let me go!"

The sounds of a struggle and then a quiet tingle of magic in the air as Jareth simply disappeared out from Archer's hold. The fairy remained half-kneeling on the ground, the red flush of exertion on his white skin. Unlike Jareth's colouring, Archer's skin looked healthy and not bloodless. The blue of veins ran faintly over his hands. With Jareth, some wondered if the Goblin King had any blood in him at all.

Toby shifted, meaning to leave, not wanting to be caught there when Jareth returned. But the dry leaves rustled beneath the soft leather boots he wore and Archer's head snapped up, eyes ripping through the shadows for the intruder.

Toby stepped forward into his sight- "It's just me."

"I do not think you need to spy, Master Elf," Archer sighed, "If you would but ask, I am sure Jareth would tell you when he could what was troubling him."

"Archer, what was that? What did he mean?"

"Nothing, child. A fear from a long time ago."

"What was it?"

The fairy got to his feet and dusted himself off, picking up a coiled whip from where he had dropped it. Carefully attaching it to his belt, the fairy continued to direct a strong stare at the mortal, waiting to see how deeply he desired to know, waiting to see if it would be wise to tell him.

"If you don't tell me, I'll ask Jareth," Toby said, implacable and quiet, "But I know he won't want me to ask him so I'm asking you."

"And what makes you think I would tell you?"

"The love you have for him." It stuck in Toby's throat to admit it, but Archer was in love with Jareth. And no matter what he might wish, Jareth was not about to give Archer up either. "The fact that you want his happiness. Well, if you tell me what's going on, I can help him. To forget or work through it, it doesn't matter which."

"He does not want to forget," Archer snapped, "If you heard any part of our conversation you would know that. You see this whip?" He held it up slightly, waiting for Toby to nod before dropping it back. "Jareth has developed a taste for the whip. Not a real whip, no, but his own shame, or thoughts, or self-lacerations. He needs it. As you crave darkness, he has an excess of it. He craves someone to find the light, and that is what you are. This bond- it has nothing to do with the way you feel for each other. It never had! If you want to help him, do not bring up the subject."

Toby seemed to take a step back. "But what am I do for him?"

"Love him," Archer shrugged, "He will scream and rage and rampage for a few days. Do not hold it against him for he expresses himself that way. He is his mother's son."

His parents. Toby had only just realized that Jareth had never told him about his family. "And his father?"

Archer thought about that, leaning back against a tree and feeling it hum a soothing dirge of death behind him. "His father was a wise and good King," he said finally, "Except where my cousin was concerned. Jareth has never forgiven him for it."

"What did he do?"

"That, no one but Jareth can tell you. It is forbidden by law to speak of it. Even if it were not, no one will dare. When Jareth ascended to the throne after his father's death, he waited only until the mourning period was over before summoning all those who aided his father in his, uh, tragic lapse of judgement and killed them. In cold blood. The mutilated bodies were thrown into the Bog of Eternal Stench, for which the threat of the Bog is no laughing matter in this Kingdom."

"Archer, this thing with his parents- what if we have kids?"

"I would say have as many as you can. Force Jareth. It will be the better for him," Archer called, already on his way out of the forest, "I find the only cure to a malady is to burn the sickness out; do you not think so?"

Toby was suitably confused. Burn the sickness out? He'd rather take antibiotics and go to bed. Thinking deeply he went back to the Castle, walking through the enormous double doors at the entrance with a cheerful smile to the guards that almost made him gag.

Jareth was waiting for him in their bedroom, wild-eyed and a little terrifying. But the first touch of his hands made the desire flare until a matching wildness lit his blood too.

Toby let himself be slammed against a wall and kissed ruthlessly, welcoming the authority his husband claimed over him. A knee slid between his legs and he remembered that feast a long time ago when a song had been sung and he had almost been seduced.

There were no words for this. It was simply hard, fast and laced with anger. They didn't even make it to the bed, ending up with Toby bent over the chest at the foot of the bed. It ended with a howl and a prayer and when it was over, Toby turned and kissed his lover fiercely, demandingly.

When the kiss broke, Jareth gently found his way back into Toby's mind, easing the worry he found there. They stayed still, content to shamelessly enjoy the other's touch, whispering careful words of encouragement.

Maybe Archer was right. All Jareth needed was a little encouragement. Besides, Toby eventually decided that the kids would come when they came and there was no need to keep worrying about it.


	10. Lessons Learnt

Author's Note: I know things are getting very confusing here, but indulge me. Toby and Jareth both come from very different worlds, and both bear their own scars and traumas. I'd imagine it would make things very difficult for the both of them to adjust to each other.

-------------------------------------------------------

Arienne carefully examined the smooth expanse of stomach, fingers pressing and probing with the utmost concentration.

Toby flinched but held still. It was a supremely uncomfortable process, all things considered; who knew pregnancy tests could be so awkward? And so intrusive! He's already had to pass over a urine sample and that was a disgusting thing to have to do. He had a new-found respect for women these days. Especially since he'd found out that yes, men really were idiots.

"Yes," the old goblin announced, suitably interrupting his internal diatribe, "I am afraid the preliminary test was right. You are pregnant."

The boy heaved a sigh of relief and hurriedly got up, pulling his shirt down. "Are you sure?" he asked anxiously, "I really don't want to have tell Jareth if I don't have to."

"The last test will agree, MyLord. Congratulations."

"I suppose I can't just not tell him, can I? "

"No, these things usually have symptoms," Arienne smiled, packing his curious little gadgets away in his bag, "But you can rest easy; your consort does not know as yet. You have a few more days to think things through."

Toby grinned back, but hesitantly. There was something that he really wanted to ask, something that he was beginning to think was like the search for the Holy Grail, but he had this feeling that Arienne would be as unlikely to tell him as Jamelia or Kyfrem or Cornelia or any of the others he had spoken to. Yet, he didn't think that it would hurt to try. After all, Arienne was educated and shrewd; that and he seemed the only person who paid entirely no attention at all to Jareth's vicious mood swings.

"Something troubles you, child?"

Toby looked up with a start, blinking to see the keen grey eyes peering closely at him. "I was thinking of something," he confessed, "It's a bit personal and I don't know... that is, I need some information."

"Oh?" Arienne decided he was definitely interested. Of all those who counted themselves amongst the Goblin King's allies, he had had the least contact with the King's mate. "And what information is this?"

"It's about Jareth. And this past of his that no one is allowed to talk about?"

Arienne stiffened.

"Wait! I know you can't say anything, but honestly, you have to help me out here." Toby heard himself plead shamelessly. He didn't care. Instead he focused all the wealth of his charm and innocence on the retreating goblin healer. "What's the big secret- that's all I want to know."

"That's worth more than my life, child. At least, to His Majesty it is," Arienne stated grimly. He picked up his bag and made to leave, stopping only when a blond figure propped its back against the door and asked again. "My Lord, I really cannot tell you."

"There must be something you can tell me," Toby insisted, "Anything! Jareth's been going mad for days now. And not the 'I'll-scream-and-shout-and-generally-make-everyone-fear-me' kind, but the kind that boils slowly inside you until you lose your mind when it all tumbles out. I can feel it and I can't do a thing about it. And now there's a child to think about. There has to be something you can tell me."

"Nothing," Arienne snapped firmly, "Put it from your mind. His Majesty will not..."

Toby stamped his foot in a rage and cracked the mirror over his dresser with a short fit of magic-riddled emotion. "I'm tired of what His Majesty will or will not do," he snorted, "Just tell me what the bloody hell is going on. I'm his consort; I have the right to know."

"Rights?" The goblin gently patted the taller mortal's arm in sympathy. "Listen to me, child. You have no rights except what the Goblin King gives you. We none of us do. The rules were made to be flexible when a King so decides it. The people will not aid you for Jareth can level the Kingdom in a few short bursts of strength. Jareth is the Goblin Kingdom; the only right you have is what he allows."

Toby stared. He was standing in a sleek, dark wood panelled suite of rooms with an enormous four-poster bed and a window that looked out to the magnificence of the Labyrinth and the daily sun-rise, carrying Jareth's child even though he was a guy and scared shitless by the very thought, and all he had was Jareth's supreme favour? Even as his legal consort?

"Like hell," he swore quietly, "I am not some goblin who'll stand to be kicked around. I share his powers!"

"You do not, however, share his finesse," Arienne sighed, impatiently shifting the weight of his bag to his other hand. "And if you'll excuse me, I have patients to attend to."

"And I have the Goblin King to think about. What happens if he blows his brains out?"

Arienne smiled- actually smiled at the thought- and shook his head of wispy grey hair. "The Goblin King would no more kill himself than your friend Ludo could. His insufferable pride will not let him. So, you see?"

"No, I don't! Why won't anyone tell me? I'm having panic attacks after every night that we spend together and all I hear is 'don't worry; he won't kill himself'? Just how reassuring is that?"

"After every night? What exactly do you mean?" Arienne set his bag down and fixed a stern eye on the rampaging mortal. That this would be a difficult time for Jareth was an understandable fact; but why would he react with his bond mate? True, his first had not been pleasant, but this child was as far from Him as two people could get!

'_Toby can be controlled, Arienne. I have waited a long time for someone so easily manipulated. I do not mean to give him up even if you tell me he cannot give me heirs..._'

No, there was more to this than Jareth had admitted to. The goblin frowned and rubbed his chin, surveying his puzzled companion with thoughtful silence. Toby shifted nervously on his bare feet but seemed willing enough to discuss whatever it was that was worrying him.

"He's wonderful," Toby began slowly, "He really is. Which sounds girly and really dumb, but it's the truth. When he's with me, he's fine and we have fun. Which usually means we end up in bed, which is fine too and he seems okay with it. But then after that... he shuts down."

"Shuts down?"

"Exactly. Just like that. He just lies there, staring out of the window and thinking. He closes his mind to me. And- this sounds so stupid- but one night, I pretended to roll over in my sleep and he touched my shoulder to settle me again and his fingers were so cold."

Cold! Arienne felt cold himself as the panic gripped him. But the mortal obviously wouldn't understand the meaning of what he said; and the healer had never yet said more than he judged necessary. "The Castle is cold," he dismissed, "It was the night air."

Toby shook his golden head, folding his arms across his chest. The white shirt he was wearing was one of Jareth's, a sentimental piece of romance that he had allowed himself this morning. "It was a warm night," he shrugged, "I know because I was boiling under the blankets but I couldn't kick them off without disturbing him."

This was all that these troubled times needed to set the match to the wood. Cold! Arienne thought pleasurably of what he would say to the Goblin King when next he saw him, and if that got him thrown into the Bog of Eternal Stench then so be it. Cold!

"It's really serious, isn't it?"

"Not necessarily," Arienne cautioned, "There is something in his past that Jareth prefers to forget, but you shouldn't worry over it. You cannot afford to, right now."

"I shouldn't?" Toby raised an eyebrow and then raised his hand to show the goblin healer the crystal in his hand. "I summoned this long before you came in to see what Jareth was doing. Is it me or does this freak you out?"

Jareth was in his informal throne room, draped as per usual over his stone seat while the goblins he kept for his amusement gambolled around the room and chased a squawking chicken in circles. The Goblin King had the ceremonial dagger from his formal binding in his hand and was hypnotically drawing the flat of the blade over his thumb again and again, eyes dropped to watch the way that the sun from the many windows left the jewelled instrument in shadow. As both watched, the dagger was suddenly raised by a slender arm and hurled with indifferent accuracy at the chicken.

Arienne sighed as the goblins in the crystals immediately backed off, leaving the bloody chicken flopping weakly in the middle of the room. Jareth didn't seem able to lift his eyes from his handiwork either, watching from under hooded eyelids as the creature spilled bright red blood over the scrubbed stone floors and died.

The crystal dissolved on Toby's fingers. "See what I mean?"

Arienne really hated his position in all of this, but the truth was the truth- "He is not going mad, child. The Goblin King you see is just one face. That is another. He kills just as surely as he kisses."

"You're telling me this is what he really is?"

"No, I am telling you that this is what he is capable of," Arienne corrected, "You know this in your heart, child. You must. Jareth does not appreciate his private life being delved into, even by anyone who is his private life."

"Stop calling me 'child', Arienne, it makes me feel thirteen. Which is really wrong considering what Jareth and I get up to." It was a weak shot, but Toby hoped.

Arienne didn't so much as blink. "Sixteen is not particularly grown up either," he pointed out, picking up his bag while he was at it with a determined hand, "Jareth was a fool to have taken you so young. But I suppose he has his reasons."

'_He's so young. It reminds me, makes me crave the revenge that I can quench within him. And what is more, he will obey my every command..._'

Arienne wasn't so sure about Jareth's opinion in this. It sat very heavily on his conscience that Jareth had manoeuvred the boy into a relationship that was so obviously doomed from the start. No record existed of an Aboveground mortal living happily with an Underground. By their very nature the two were held separate. Of course, Toby's advantage was the peculiar circumstance of his upbringing, touched as he was by Underground magic all through his life since infancy. In many ways, the healer considered that the mortal had been especially bred for the Goblin King's pleasure by that bond.

"Arienne, please!"

A small hand on his shoulder and the goblin stopped, looking down to the limb with some resignation. It was a strong hand, and small but well formed with a broad palm and rather small fingers. Surprisingly enough it bore faded calluses, as if heavy work had once been involved before its recent inactivity. "I can tell you nothing."

"At least tell me where I can find the information," Toby pleaded, "I've spent every spare moment in that library but there are so many books. I can't spend another day like this."

Arienne considered the position of his head and the fact that he liked his limbs all attached to his body. "The highest level of the Castle," he gave up, "Jareth's study is up there, as are his art rooms. Perhaps the records will be there."

Toby dropped his hand and waited until the heavy wooden door closed before coming to his senses. He'd been afraid that Arienne would tell him to try those rooms; Jareth had already asked that he never go there without his express permission. But this was too much. War was war and if he had to fight to get Jareth to listen to him, then so be it.

Toby had worked himself up into a fine fury by the time he shoved his feet into his boots and stomped off down the corridor.

The Castle was as bare as it had always been, the thick stone walls occasionally marked by deep gouges that he was beginning to think were made by those who tried to be whatever it was that Jareth needed. Occasionally a faded tapestry came into view, depicting fantastical creatures and battles with grim-faced goblins. The Labyrinth spread out beyond the windows for his viewing pleasure, ringed by the shadowy blue of the far-off mountains of the Lawless Kingdom.

But Toby was not interested in mountains or tapestries. He wanted his husband and he wanted answers and he was aware that both were not going to be forthcoming. He spotted a door with a carved question mark on its grainy surface and pulled it open, slamming it shut behind him as he used it to stalk into the throne room.

Complete chaos was at hand.

Goblins were kicking around the grubby cushions and greasy tankards that they normally used. Jareth was floating crystals around the room that were full of dancing women. And the mess of the dead chicken was forgotten and forlorn in a pool of blood in the middle of room where the goblins trod on it as they ran around laughing hysterically.

Revulsion was not something that Toby felt much any more when it came to goblins. He had never really considered them to be disturbing creatures once he had met them. But these! "Out," he yelled, picking up the nearest goblin by the scruff of his neck and throwing him to the floor, "Get out! All of you!"

Jareth raised his head and looked down at his bond mate through frosty eyes. "Was there something in particular, my elf?"

Slow, measured steps and Toby was kneeling astride his husband on the seat, nose-to-nose and severely angry. "One more word and I will be very angry," he hissed.

Jareth smirked with unimpressed amusement. "It seems you already are," he said aloud.

"Get. Out."

The goblins didn't need the fire-blond to look at them to know he was speaking to them. They were happy enough to take to their heels and flee. The sharp patter of feet sounded before silence descended.

Jareth had never seen his bond mate look quite so angry. Tentatively he reached mentally for him, alarmed to feel the steely determination mix with very real upset. "What's wrong?" he asked immediately, "Has something happened?"

Without thought he reached out to grasp the thin shoulders, running his hands hurriedly over clothing to feel for any injuries or hurts.

Toby responded only by crushing his mouth to his in a brutal kiss, then pulling away to slap the half-goblin across the face.

Jareth's head snapped to the side with the force of the blow. He righted himself, blinking the shock from before his eyes only to feel his own irritation flare. "You had better have a reason," he warned quietly.

"Oh, I do," Toby sneered silkily.

A dark brow rose with ominous intent as the dual-coloured eyes began to swirl with a dangerous glitter.

"How dare you presume to wrap me up in cotton wool and stick me in a glass cupboard! What the hell is going on and why won't you talk to me? I want to know what's going on and I want to know now!"

"About what?" Jareth spat, "The weather?" Toby found himself tumbling to the floor as Jareth stood up abruptly. The boy rolled instinctively. No one looked like he did and got away without learning to fight for his survival.

"Go back to your room," Jareth advised, "Occupy yourself as you think fit. And never speak of this again." The Goblin King made to leave the room, heeled boots already on the stairs when a hand stopped him from going further.

"Tell me what happened to you," Toby asked. There were no pleas any more, no anger.

Jareth turned just enough to watch the mortal warily from the corner of his eye. "It is none of your concern. Forget all of it."

"When you creep away from our bed at dawn? Is that when I'm supposed to not remember that there's something bothering you? When you touch me as if you need to punish the both of us for something? Huh? Jareth, I just want to help."

"Listen to me." Jareth was serious now. He wasn't angry and he wasn't annoyed. He was simply hell-bent on preserving his lover's ignorance for as long as was possible. "You cannot help me with this. There is nothing wrong with me. I am fine. Forget that this is bothering you. If you cannot, I will be forced to repress your memories and that, my elf, is something I am loath to do."

Toby took a hurried step back, clearly stunned by the warning. Play with his mind? After everything that his rapist had done Jareth would do the same? "You wouldn't dare," he gasped.

Jareth matched him step for step, looking down at him with sad eyes. "Yes, I would. I once told you that I held the power to dare in my hands. It was no hollow boast."

The entire room seemed to stand between them. Toby was vaguely aware that somewhere he could hear a goblin singing off-key, and that by the feel of his stomach it was close to the time for food. But all he knew was Jareth's eyes, pouring into him from two steps and the world away, glowing with something that went beyond insane to supreme. He had never questioned Jareth's dominion over everyone else around him before; it had seemed natural in this wild, feral world. But such complete control?

"You said you wouldn't ever limit our relationship," Toby tried.

"I also said I would take care of you," Jareth sighed, "Believe me I am trying to do what is best for you."

Toby held his silence. There was nothing he could say if Jareth was going to take this tack. And his child… Toby couldn't force the issue because he had the child to think about and Jareth couldn't know because Jareth couldn't possibly want it. Not if he didn't really want Toby and how could he want him if this was what he was prepared to do to him?

"Never bring up my past again," Jareth said, gloved hand extended to curl a lock of golden hair around his fingers.

Toby jerked away and the leather-coated fingers fell.

Jareth whirled away, white-feathered cape floating gently behind him. Boot heels clicked up the stairs and Jareth's straight back retreated from sight.

It was many hours before the Goblin King saw his bond mate again, and when he did it was amongst the rocks on the banks of the lake, crying quietly with some nameless sorrow. Jareth watched him for a while, standing behind him and simply dragging his eyes over the tragic figure seated in the dark of the night on a rock, his face in his hands and slow sobs trembling over his back. Toby never cried. He got angry and upset but he didn't cry. The only time he cried was… Jareth didn't want to think about that. If that bastard had touched his bond mate again, Jareth would not rest until he had hunted him down.

"Toby?" It felt as if a dam had burst in his own soul when his bond mate flung himself into his arms, speedily possessing himself of a shoulder and bursting into tears all over again. "Luv, what is it? What ails you?"

"I'm sorry," Toby gulped, "I know you didn't want this and I k-kept pushing, but I didn't mean to and now you'll hate me."

"Hate you?" Jareth wondered whether stress had forced his lover to regress to the mental state of an eight year old. Hate him, indeed! "I do not hate you, my elf. You know that." Jareth had the icy fear sliding down his spine that Toby had changed his mind!

That was evidently the wrong thing to say because Toby sobbed even harder. "You will," he wailed, his nose red and his eyes screwed shut over the tears racing down his face.

"I promise you that I will not. Will you at least come home first?" Jareth asked, worried. It had been like emerging from a long sleep to remember that he hadn't actually seen much of his lover beyond the walls of their bedchamber. And when he'd waited there for him for most of the day he'd begun to wonder why. It was a heart-wrenching thing to realize he'd simply neglected him in his own anguish. "Come, child. Nothing will be solved with staying here."

Child? Toby wanted to laugh hysterically at that. Child? He wasn't a child! He was old enough to get pregnant, damn it; he wanted that much credit at least!

Jareth must have felt the raging emotions because he looked down and pried Toby's face out of the folds of his cape in order to look him in the eye. "What's wrong?" he asked openly.

"I'm pregnant," Toby sniffed, looking away in dread as he waited for the horror and the anger that would surely be levelled his way. He could feel his husband's shock and yes, even the incredulous denial at first impact. And then there was an eerie silence.

The white hands never left his arms; Jareth didn't let him go and back away slowly. Toby opened his eyes and looked up. A neutral expression graced the face with its carved features, the ancient knowing eyes gazing hawk-like into his. His heart plummeted. Jareth didn't want their child. He was going to refuse.

Then the thin mouth began to smile. It was merely a lovely curving of the lips and then sharp incisors peeped out as the slow smile spread over Jareth's whole face to reach his eyes, lighting them with delight and wonder and triumph. Toby let out a sigh and found himself crushed against Jareth's hard body, strong arms walling him in with secure tenderness.

"Gods, I was so worried," Jareth murmured, "I thought you were unhappy. There were all these reasons in my head for why you would want to leave, ways I made you want to leave."

"Idiot," Toby muttered, the sound muffled by Jareth's chest, "Never leave you... can't... besides, I'm hungry!"

Jareth laughed. "I think you are beginning to babble, my elf. Come home. I believe we have to feed you before you waste away."

Toby snorted, looking up with tired blue eyes, unaware that there were dark circles around them, or that his skin was pale with lack of sleep and worry. "You obviously know nothing about a pregnancy! I'm about to get as big as a house. Give me a few months and the both of us won't fit in the same bed."

"Of course we will... in certain positions," Jareth murmured suggestively.

Which only served to remind the smaller male that Arienne had warned him of the hormones that were going to drive him wild for nine months, and which were probably going to make him extremely volatile. He shivered and unconsciously pressed closer, sliding his flat stomach against Jareth's hip, a leg rising to curl around the half-goblin's thigh.

Jareth laughed again, this time a long low chuckle of pleasure that drew a mewl out of the mortal's wide mouth. He apparated them back to the room in front of their bed chamber, calling instantly for food to be brought for them as he shoved Toby into a chair and forbade him to move so much as a muscle for the rest of the night.


	11. Birthdays and Begettings

Author's Note: Much thanks to Navaer Lalaith for her website on all things Elvish (Tolkienian). The name of the Elf Lord means 'Fading Leaf' which I thought appropriate. Do not be confused though, the elves age like humans do, unlike the fairies and the goblins who stay at the peak of their looks for the rest of their lives once they reach it. Hence, Jareth will look about thirty-two even in death.

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Jareth practically danced out of his throne room with a song on his lips, actually twirling in a little circle before disappearing out the door. The goblins stopped what they were doing to watch him with terrified eyes. The one who had delivered the message sat down hard on the floor and fanned her heated face.

"He's mad," she insisted.

The scene had been a potential death-trap when she'd sidled into the room, even though the Goblin King had not been in a bad humour for many days now. But to relay the message she was trusted with! The poor thing had been certain of her death. Until Jareth finally lost his patience with her stuttering and screamed at her to spit it out.

"Lord Toby... he's ill," she had squeaked, retreating behind a fatter goblin as soon as the words tumbled out.

Every goblin had frozen, stunned into immobility at the implications. Jareth had stood motionless himself for a while, and then a crazy smile of contentment had lit his eyes and he'd left the room in that ridiculous fashion, leaving the goblins to think as they wished. And the goblins wished very much that they had not seen what they had seen; it was positively indecent for the Goblin King to be as human as all that! Of course, had they seen what followed between the Goblin King and his consort, they might just have migrated to the Fairy Kingdom for good.

Jareth plucked his lover from the floor beside the basin where he was propped, crooning softly in his ear as he sat him on his lap and rubbed his back. His lover seemed to stop feeling quite so wretchedly ill as he pressed a slender hand against his roiling stomach for a few moments to ease the ominous gurgling.

"It's that child," Toby muttered, somewhat thickly even though he would refuse to admit to it, "God, I feel terrible!"

"It happens; you know that," Jareth soothed. He rubbed soothing circles into the soft skin under his palm, resting his cheek against his hair. "Are you certain? Is this what you want? There are ways to rid your body of the child if you want. But tell me now so I can research the spell before the safety period is over."

"No!" Toby looked so violently disgusted with such a suggestion that the Goblin King grinned. "Touch this child and I will be very, very angry. You hear?"

"Very well," the Goblin King agreed, "I assume we keep it."

"Well, unless you think I'm having a litter and you can sell it to your neighbour on the next street, then yes. It's not exactly a golden Labrador pup, you know."

"I didn't think it would be," Jareth smirked, "Unless you have an ancestry I am not aware of." A whack landed on his thigh and he chuckled, cupping a warm cheek in his left hand. "Will you be all right?"

"I will," Toby promised, "Once I stop feeling quite so sick. Does the entire Kingdom really need to know?"

"It is only fair to my people to know my heir is conceived," Jareth pointed out, "It will at least stop them holding ridiculous meetings to plan my overthrow for the next six months or so. Fools!"

"Indeed," Toby agreed dryly, doing a very good imitation of his husband's ironic tone, "Oh, stop laughing! You're making me feel sick again."

Jareth hurriedly shifted so that Toby was closer to the basin. The half-goblin looked slightly nauseous himself at the thought. Mud and grime, he could handle, even blood at a pinch. But someone being sick all over him? His clothes would not survive, and neither would he.

"Don't worry," Toby muttered, hearing the unspoken thought, "I don't have anything left to be sick with. I haven't eaten breakfast and dinner is already out. Ugh, even the thought of food is horrible."

"Very well, then. Let us talk of other things. Would a trip outside of these four walls help?"

Toby shot him an incredulous look out of bright blue eyes, blinking his near-invisible eyelashes in quite some horror. "I can't leave the room like this. Everyone will know!"

Jareth frowned slightly as he looked down at the face turned up to his. "Everyone will soon be told," he reminded the mortal, "I am announcing it tonight."

"Tonight? So soon?"

"Toby!" Jareth pushed his lover off his lap and stood up, towering over him with a displeased frown. "I told you of this a week ago. You are three months with child; we must tell them sometime. And surely you did not forget what today is?"

Toby settled his mind enough to try to think.

"You did forget what today is."

"No, no! I haven't forgotten, honest! I just... need a few moments to remember?" Toby tried hopefully. Inspiration hit. Or rather, Jareth's ill-tempered thought thrown his way hit. "Oh shit!" No, he decided, this was not a good day. "Jareth, I'm sorry. I just feel so ill it slipped my mind, but I swear I didn't forget. I swear! I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" Jareth looked genuinely astonished. "Whatever for?"

Toby used a handful of his husband's clothes to lever himself off the ground and into a semi-standing position. Jareth's shoulder luckily foiled any attempt by gravity to send him crashing to the ground. "Aren't you angry?"

"Do I feel angry?"

Toby considered that, sifting through all the jumbled thoughts in his head. "No," he sighed, relieved beyond measure. "No, thank God. But I'm still sorry. I shouldn't be forgetting your birthday. By the way, Happy Birthday."

"My birthday, my elf, is irrelevant," Jareth smiled, "The ball tonight, however, is not. You are attending." He wasn't about to give Toby a choice in the matter. Sick or not, pregnant or not, the King's mate had to be at his side on formal occasions no matter what. "What is Kyfrem giving you to wear tonight?"

"I don't know," Toby admitted, "He's going overboard getting me, well, pregnancy clothes. I don't think he quite approves of me having a baby and so he's feeling a little guilty about it."

Jareth sighed and helped his lover to the bed. "Lie down," he instructed, "And stay there. Kyfrem is an imbecile, but he will not have forgotten tonight."

And the goblin valet had not, luckily. Unluckily, the outfit Jareth found was not something he had been expecting.

"A corset?" he exploded, the flinging the garment to the ground with a flick of his strong wrist, "What in the name of the Gods is that fool thinking?"

Toby sat up quickly, regretted it, and stared at the discarded garment in some amusement. "Actually, I asked him to get that," the mortal grinned, "Try the ivory suit on the chair there. I think that's what I'm wearing."

Jareth walked out, kicked the dropped garment half-way across the room and stared critically at the perfectly innocent suit that lay draped over the back of an ornate chair. The dark green brocade of the chair's seat did not quite set the fine cloth off to advantage, but from what Jareth could tell, it looked fine. "Good," he approved, regaining his temper and turning back with a satisfied nod, only to see his lover out of bed and picking the abused corset off the floor. "Why are you out of bed?"

"Because you are ruining my clothes," Toby snapped, blue eyes flashing fire, "Stop kicking my stuff around. It's very rude of you."

Jareth sighed. "Why do you possess a corset?" he asked curiously, "You have no breasts, no need for either support or embellishment of this sort. Why buy it?"

Toby blushed and fiddled with one of the long bones encased in the black material. "There was this dream," he excused. The mismatched eyes glinted at him with certain delight. "No, stop gloating. It was one of yours."

The delight vanished. "Mine?"

"Well, it had to be," Toby protested, walking unsteadily past Jareth to put the corset back into his closet, "It was ages ago, before you came for me, and I've certainly never dreamed of wearing such a ridiculous outfit. It, um, was for your birthday. Only I guess I forgot what day it was. And I underestimated how terrible I would feel." He stuck his head out and smiled weakly- "Uh, surprise?"

Jareth raised an eyebrow.

Toby gave up. "Look, it was meant to be a surprise before I even knew about the whole dance tradition. I thought, you know, dinner and this. You'd be happy; I'd be happy- everyone wins. Then I got pregnant and you started talking about balls."

Jareth's mouth twitched.

"And get your mind out of the gutter. You know I didn't mean that. Honestly!"

Jareth smirked gently as he captured his bond mate and drew him back to the bed. Ever since that night a few weeks ago, he'd been careful not to leave his elf to his own devises. Especially now that there was a child to think of; Gods, but he was so nervous of that! Toby would not know, naturally; Jareth was careful to lock that part of his mind away from his bond mate, easily manipulating the bond with his skill.

"Thank you," he whispered, pausing to lick the shell of one ear, "I appreciate it. But perhaps we can compromise."

Toby looked up in suspicion. "We can?" he questioned dubiously.

Jareth shrugged, looking positively evil with that look on his face. "Wear the outfit," he put forth, "The ball will be a masquerade. No one need know you until the end. You could even disappear before the unmasking and change into something less dashing. It would be our secret, hmmm?"

Toby thought about that. He'd seen the rooms being prepared for the ball. His husband had received the inevitable delegation from the Fairy Kingdom at some hideous hour of the night, led this time by the redoubtable Fairy Queen herself. Jareth had been angry enough to shake the foundations at being awakened from his sleep to greet the selfish bitch, and his temper hadn't improved by the time he'd come back to bed at nearly dawn. As for the rest, it would be mostly dignitaries and nobles from the Goblin Kingdom, a few of the last remaining Old Houses of the Dwarfs, an Elf Lord of ancient lineage and the humans from the Ivory Tower.

"You want me to wear the outfit I was planning to wear in private for you in front of everyone at this ball?"

Jareth blinked with innocent enquiry.

Toby sighed. He had, after all, forgotten Jareth's birthday. He might as well make it up with this mad scheme of his. "Fine. I'll wear the outfit. What time is it?"

"Past ten in the morning," Jareth supplied, "Go back to bed. Kyfrem will come for you when it is time to dress." Toby pouted, directing a thought to his husband. "No, I am not staying with you. I certainly don't want to sleep all day. And I do have guests to attend to. Unless I strangle them before this night."

"I advise you not to," Toby sighed, "Oh, my head! Is Archer here?"

"The Queen has left him to tend to the country in her stead," Jareth frowned, "I've told the cow that he had better attend the ball or there will be hell to pay on the next trade agreements. I think she will send for him tonight."

"That's good. Run along then, and let me sleep. Don't kill anyone and please remember not to pick fights with the fairies? I'd kiss you but I'm afraid my mouth will taste horrible."

"Yes, it probably does. Sleep. I will see you tonight."

Jareth disappeared out of the room, a last chaste kiss on his forehead speeding the mortal into a half-wakeful doze filled with plans and thoughts. After all, Toby smirked, there was still a birthday present to be planned.

That evening, Kyfrem went out of his way to coax his Lord into a hectic dressing regime that made Toby feel like a high-class prostitute being prepared for her most lucrative client. But once the bathing and primping and curling and buckling were done, he had to admit that even he would not have recognized himself.

What was more, none of the guests did either. Toby asked Kyfrem to wait in his room for Jareth, leaving a note explaining that the King's consort had already made his way downstairs to mingle with the crowd in secret. Jareth was to enter the ballroom alone. Then the mortal simply used his new powers of apparition to appear at the fringes of the glittering horde and take his seat in a dark corner.

The fairies were evidently not in attendance yet, judging by the fact that Toby vaguely recognized a few of the people milling around as being goblins or humans. It seemed the less important people had already been gathered and he took a seat with studied casualness as his blue eyes observed the people from the slits of a black velvet mask tied to his face. Since most were unmasked as yet and others had a habit of forgetting to hold their masks over their faces, Toby was instantly singled out as a point of interest.

But it was indeed a sight.

The room was enormous, with high ceilings and polished marble floors. Jareth had enchanted his ceilings to exude a kind of unearthly glow; so covered as they were with pricked black velvet the artistic illusion of the night sky was gloriously decadent when coupled with the sconces of softly glowing candles that stood tall against the walls. Beaten panels of silver hung everywhere, etchings of the history of the Goblin Kings worked into them. They were obviously done by different artists, for some were austere and some were fantastical; some were simple poses and some were of great deeds. Conspicuously, however, one panel was missing- that of Jareth's father. The gap was more noticeable for being flanked by a stern looking goblin on the left and by a simple sketch of Jareth on the right. No one seemed to comment on the fact and Toby had long stopped asking for reasons.

A fanfare of trumpets sounded from nowhere and the King's personal bodyguards saluted as the party of tall, well-dressed strangers drew near, shimmering like pastel statues in the ethereal light.

Toby felt his eyes narrow behind his mask speculatively: the Fairy Queen had arrived. The dainty figure swept forward, followed by a bevy of attendants as she swanned across the room to a group of heavy-looking carved chairs. They were all dressed in white, as was customary for Fairy nobility, the only colour being themselves and the ornaments they wore.

The Queen herself- a chestnut haired woman with a sweet mouth- was wearing a white dress with a scarlet sash. Jareth had already explained that the Royal colour of the Fairy Queen was scarlet, and that the colour was chosen according to the monarch's aura. Jareth's own colour was silver, and as such it was used to full effect during Royal functions. Toby was highly amused to note that none of the fairies, with exception of a dark-haired male who he suspected was Archer, wore any silver ornaments or silver cloth. All wore gold earrings and necklaces, the heavy intricacies of their work so very different from the austere simplicities that Jareth favoured.

Toby stood languidly, rising to circle the crowd. He felt the eyes of a few in the room follow his slow steps and deliberately began to weave a slow, delicate sensuality around himself. He touched nothing and no one, even when he gracefully evaded someone in his way, twirling away on higher heels than he was wont to wear to continue his walk down his pre-determined path. He'd had to practise all evening to get his balance properly in those shoes. But Kyfrem was right; they did look pretty.

Jareth paused in the doorway to take in the scene. None had noticed the entrance of the Goblin King as yet and truthfully, Jareth would not wanted them to. Even without thought his eyes had been arrested by the small, slender figure winding its way through the room, golden hair a wild mass of curls around his velvet masked face with the enchanting tip-tilted wide mouth. The billowing arms of the white shirt beneath the corset were silk and almost transparent even in the half-light, suggesting tantalizing glimpses of silken skin beneath. And the black corset was pulled tight over the tiny waist, accentuating and highlighting the delicately flat curves of his lover's torso. And what a sight his lover made!

Jareth leaned against the doorway, a smirk flickering over his bloodless lips as the nonchalant figure paused regally before the fairies. He raised an eyebrow in surprise as it then proceeded to sketch a low, mocking bow with infinite care and grace before swaying indifferently away. So Kyfrem had taught him a few courtly gestures! Jareth was suitably impressed.

Toby knew Jareth was watching. He had felt the beloved gaze burn into his skin like a hot knife. He had felt the connection between them buzz, had felt Jareth's heated admiration grow with every heart-stopping second. And this entire show was for Jareth.

"My King," he breathed softly, dropping to one knee before the Goblin King.

Jareth smiled slightly, asking his bond mate in his mind what exactly he thought he was doing.

"Your present," Toby whispered, so low no one but the king himself could hear a word, even though all were straining to grasp the meaning of this intriguing display, "Unwrap me as you will, flaunt me as you will... use me as you will."

Definitely Kyfrem's work. Jareth determined to reward the little goblin for such wonderful transformations. A slender white finger ringed with black opal slid into the curls. "Do you know what you give?"

Toby pondered his answer and smiled, a pink tongue peeping out to lick at his unnaturally reddened lips. "I only give you what I hold the most precious," he said clearly, picking his words with care so as to be better understood by those of the Underground.

Jareth's fingers dropped slightly to the silver encrusted choker that his husband wore. "Your gift is accepted. Up; at my side."

Toby obeyed breathlessly, a warm rush of release slamming through him to slither sinuously through his gut to pool in his thighs. If Jareth felt the energy, he neither commented nor reacted; the half-goblin drew one golden hand through his arm and turned to level a coldly amused glance around the room.

"Greetings," he called, "Welcome to my humble abode."

A small ripple of laughter greeted his irony. Even at its most gothic, the Castle of the Goblin King could never be called humble. In the Underground, the fame of this land and the powerful Goblin King was legendary, infiltrating even the Lawless Kingdom so that no outlaws dared to attack any but the smallest of the goblin villages. And no matter Jareth's past, the enigmatic Goblin King had carved a feared and respected place for himself in his society.

"You honour me with your presence, and I offer you thanks for your wishes on my behalf. Eat well, drink better, and find your pleasures in my hospitality."

His short speech of welcome done, Jareth entered through the delicately wrought arched entrance, his bond mate on his arm and the lust for life dancing in his veins. There was an almost electric surge in his heart as he approached the faeries, laughing inside himself at Archer's congratulatory grin and the way that the Fairy Queen was turning up her perfectly shaped aquiline nose. "Queen Amarild," he greeted, dropping an insolent nod of the head to her. There was no need for him to bow low over her hand; but even if such an action had been demanded with a reversal of their positions, he would not have done so, "My greetings, fair Queen. You grace my halls at last."

"Yes," she sighed, rising courteously to her feet, "Decorum demanded it, did it not? My congratulations were already pending on your nuptials; I ask the Gods for good wishes on you and your bond mate. Is he indisposed at the moment? Or will he join us later?"

Toby hurriedly stopped a chuckle at Archer's panicked look at the back of that carefully coiffed chestnut head. "He is," he answered, speaking hurriedly before Jareth could, "The King's bond mate asked me to present his apologies to this illustrious crowd. He is rather unwell lately. I am to take his place for this night."

The Queen looked taken-aback. She had every reason to be, after all, for she had naturally assumed that the fire-blond flaunting himself like a high-class concubine was the Goblin King's new consort. True, she had expected to find the mortal to be ungainly, sullen, opinionated, defensive and proud of his new station in life and it certainly explained why this thin child with the soft face seemed to be none of those things. But it appeared that the Goblin King was simply continuing his old ways and old lovers in spite of marriage.

"I see," she said slowly, "A worthy position on this auspicious day. By what name are you known?"

Toby laughed, loudly and wildly, throwing back his golden curls to expose the silver-encrusted black choker that sat on his slender golden throat. "Cloud," he said, "Call me Cloud."

Jareth stifled a smirk behind an extravagant flourish of a bow before leading his partner away to greet the other guests. "Cloud?" he whispered into a golden ear.

Toby openly pressed his cheek to Jareth's, rubbing sensuously like a cat, purring low in his throat to the shock of a properly brought up goblin lady. When he looked up, a pair of grey eyes was seeking him out with some amusement. The personage wore a long green tunic not unlike the style of the fairies, with fitted leggings underneath. A loose, open coat-like outer garment was fastened around his delicate frame, the dark brown a perfect foil to his long silver-grey hair. His skin was deeply olive-tinted, seemingly burnt dark by the sun. His eyes were startling under dark eyelashes and burned with a feverish wildness, as if standing on a mountaintop in the midst of a storm.

"My Lord." This time, Jareth let go of Toby's hand to drop a reverential bow to the male still gazing at them both with his wild grey eyes.

"Your Majesty," the male replied in kind, his lined face still beautiful with the smile he directed to them. "May you find much happiness in your four-hundred-and-fifty-third year, and naturally in all the years to follow. But it seems you already have the means to do so."

The grey eyes swung once more to Toby. Unlike with the masked disapproval of the Fairy Queen, Toby found himself slightly shy around those grey eyes. They knew too much of nature and people, seemingly able to pierce the depths of the soul with hardly a glance.

"My Lord, may I present Cloud- my companion for the night since it seems my consort is unwell and unable to attend," Jareth said blandly, "Cloud, may I present Lord Pelinlas, last remaining nobleman of the elves in the Underground."

"An elf?" Toby stared in wonder, greedy blue eyes travelling up and down the graceful presence as if to imprint it on his memory.

Lord Pelinlas allowed the stare, smiling with some secret amount of amusement at the youngster so engrossed in him. Had he wanted, he could easily have mentioned that he knew the young male to be none other than Lord Toby, the King's mortal consort, and that he heartily liked the pretty charade that the two were playing. As an elf, he had been exposed to most of the intricacies of nature, and he found nothing more enjoyable than to watch two lovers who danced the age-old dance of give-and-take like a pair of courting sparrows.

He had barely had these thoughts when the blue eyes blinked and the honey-pale skin began to tint red with a blush. "I am sorry," Toby murmured, dipping his head in respect, "I never meant to stare."

"A cat may look at a King," the Elf Lord replied soothingly, "As any may look at an aging Elf Lord. Look all you require. Your child will never see such as I, for I fear this will be my last visit to your Kingdom's heart."

Toby stiffened with surprise and then felt Jareth's sorrow loosed with shock and a futile flash of denial.

"You feel death approach?" the Goblin King asked sadly, "Is there nothing to keep it at bay? I would give much to preserve your life a few years more." Unconsciously he slipped away into the dialect of the Underground, words flowing in ornate and elaborate ways through the channels of conversation.

The elf shook his silver-grey head in determined gentleness. "Nature will demand death," he warned, "And as nature decrees it, so shall it be obeyed. You know that, King of the Goblins. I shall not fight it, as I have always instructed you not to."

"I was never your best pupil," Jareth allowed ruefully, "I do not think death should be allowed if it can be halted."

"That is because you still have life ahead of you. My time to leave is near and I accept it wholeheartedly. You will see when your time comes, you will not resist when death calls to end your life with eternal rest."

Toby shifted nearer to his husband, uncomfortable with all the talk of death. This was Jareth's birthday. The half-goblin had assured him that he could well live for the next five hundred years or more, even as Toby never would. Toby couldn't imagine Jareth's life ever finding completion with death; it was too final, too much of an ending for someone whose life seemed to flow with the land itself.

The elf seemed to sense this distress for he turned once more to the captivating person and nodded. Leaning forward, he laid a worn hand over the mortal's stomach, warm even through the corset and shirt as he chanted a low blessing in elvish for the child.

"Your child will be happy," he said simply, bowing as he stepped back to take his leave, "And your child will be safe. You need ask for no more."

Then he was gone, disappearing rapidly in the waves of people that took the opportunity to crowd around Jareth and his partner, anxious to see whom it was that the King had on his arm. For pretty as his consort had been, surely the mortal was not capable of something so abandoned as this? After all, he was just a child, innocent and protected, not some sensual peacock strutting through the crowd in high-heeled boots and corsets, a plume of small black feathers pinned amongst his curls like the decoration in a lady's hair.

Jareth simply laughed in private, a possessive hand on the small of his demure secret's back as he made his way through the crowds to the centre of the room, glorying in the brief brush of hip and shoulder that his lover gifted to him with seemingly naïve frequency.


	12. John, I'm Only Dancing

Author's Note: To be read directly after the previous chapter. It is an immediate continuation, as will be the next chapter.

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"So what now?" Toby whispered, leaning close to Jareth's side to make himself heard.

"We dance," Jareth murmured back, spinning his lover into his arms and guiding him in a slow circle around the space left by the watchful dancers. "At any other time, I would have had to ask the Queen of the Fairies to accompany me. But since my consort is here, I dance with him."

Toby looked up in a panic. "But not everyone knows who I am! The Queen doesn't! She'll think you're snubbing her."

"She may think as she likes. I have not yet put a tax on that," Jareth teased, pulling the slight body closer. "Now why would I dance with her when I have this enchanting creature in my arms?"

Toby snorted, blue eyes glittering behind his black mask. "I know you detest Queen Amarild, but she is gorgeous. I can't think why she isn't married."

"Perhaps beauty is not always about a great pair of tits," Jareth remarked, raising an eyebrow as Toby giggled. "Is there something wrong with what I have just said?"

"You didn't even know what gay meant when I first met you, and now you're walking around spouting off about tits? That's just freaky; didn't know I had that kind of an effect on you."

Jareth didn't reply immediately, distracted as he was by a woman who insisted on hugging him tight as she wished him health and happiness in the year ahead, but the moment she left them alone, he turned back to look at his partner with an amused glance. "Luv, did you imagine I picked up this accent while conversing with goblins? I have spent some years in the Aboveground."

Toby missed a step in shock. "You've lived in the Aboveground? When?"

"Oh, around twenty years ago, I believe." Jareth smiled to see his husband look winded. Unless it was the corset that was taking his breath away- it certainly looked tight enough. "I have an interest in the mortal world. I went to explore. Stayed there from the mid-'fifties, I think, to the end of the 'seventies. I had forgotten much of their terms for things until you reminded me."

"Wow!"

Jareth shrugged, nodding graciously to another well-wisher but studiously avoiding him for the privacy of a conversation with his mate. "It is not unheard of," he excused, "Many chose to live there for a few years and some never return. Amarild herself has been; she returned from there just ten years ago."

"And does she talk about tits and gays?" Toby teased.

Jareth chuckled and shook his head. "I believe she spent her time amongst the blue-blooded rich families of Boston. It was an education for her, but less than the one I had."

"Mid-fifties in England, huh? What was it like?"

"Very hard," Jareth said soberly, "War had decimated the country; there were scarcely enough jobs and the Government could not afford very much help. Food was rationed and spirits were low. I took myself off to America after two years there."

"America? Don't tell me you had an American accent."

"No, I never did," Jareth soothed, "But then I was high on something or drunk for most of my time there, so I never bothered to think of accents. You Americans were so deliciously wild in the sixties, with your denim and flowers and wonderful music."

"So how come you don't sound like me?" Toby pouted, neatly avoiding backing onto the hem of someone's dress. He turned to offer an apologetic smile to the woman. "Did you go back to England?"

"Yes. Drugs become boring very fast and the constant diet of 'peace, man' was getting on my nerves. I met a woman who talked of London being the next big scene and took off with her. She was right." Something about the way the Goblin King spoke made his consort very suspicious.

"She did, did she? Who was this chick and why do I get the feeling I should be jealous?"

Jareth smiled ever more enigmatically, silently handing his husband over to someone who cut in. Toby was just opening his mouth to protest the arrangement when he saw whom it was that Jareth was heading for. Glaring for a good two minutes at Amarild's coldly beautiful face over his partner's shoulder, Toby promised himself that he would get revenge.

The entire gathering was treated to the sight of two of the strangest men they had ever met take over a half of the room each and wage war against each other. No other two people were more charming, or flirtatious. Where the Goblin King had every woman sighing for a simple smile or glance from his mismatched eyes, the Goblin King's mystery guest had every remotely bisexual man in the near vicinity hanging on his every word.

In a way, Jareth considered it the most amusing irony he had seen in a long time. From his lover's presence in his mind, he could sense absolutely no attraction to any of the people Toby was flirting with. Until a woman whispered softly in the golden shell of an ear and then there was a definite buzz of interest, in which case, Jareth sent him a very stern warning. Only to receive a mocking toast from across the room in return. A toast echoed by the woman draped over Toby's shoulder.

That did it!

Jareth turned blandly to the Fairy Queen and asked for the second dance. She agreed, looking more than a little amused at the game she was becoming a pawn in. She showed no illusions of respect or admiration for her goblin counterpart, but she certainly enjoyed laughing down at him. And to see him bested by a slip of a boy made her enforced visit to this most hated of places worthwhile.

Jareth whisked her away to the sound of the music from nowhere, going out of his way to charm her. As with all women, she relaxed soon enough to talk with civility, laughing at a few of his whispered inanities and allowing herself to forget for a moment that the male holding her was the Goblin King whom she despised.

Toby glowered sourly at the sight from over a glass of some kind of juice, completely ignoring what the girl beside him was saying as he wished he could get drunk on the blasted wine he wasn't allowed to drink any more.

'_Stop it_,' he hissed viciously between minds, '_Any closer and she'll be looking out the back of your head_.'

Jareth's only response was to pull her slightly closer still, leaning down to say something in her ear. She nodded, shrugged and then the two made for a discreet door tucked behind a tapestry. Jareth pulled it aside, opened it, and followed her into its dark recesses.

Archer looked from Toby's stricken face to the doorway his cousin had disappeared down and excused himself from his conversation. The peacock was looking more and more like a woebegone child as the seconds passed and no one reappeared. "May I be of service?" Blue eyes snapped up to his, bright with emotion as they blinked into focus. "I believe you have a little game that requires a partner."

Toby smiled a little. "Indeed, Sir, I do not know what you mean," he murmured lightly, twirling his glass in his fingers with a demure smile.

Archer grinned slightly, pushing him back against a wall and speedily divesting him of his glass. "Someone should spank you," he growled, "Playing such games!"

Toby let his tongue out to play, running the barest tip of it over his lip in a quick cat-like gesture. He raised a hand to tweak absently at the pointed collar of Archer's ice-blue tunic, noting to himself that it matched the shade of colour that streaked the dark hair. "Games can be very pleasurable," he smirked, "When one plays them right."

"Brat," Archer chuckled, "What am I to call you tonight?"

"Cloud," Toby reminded him, "An insubstantial and insignificant name; prettiness of the most ephemeral kind." Archer seemed all kinds of interesting at the moment, with his full mouth smiling the same indulgently amused smile that Jareth used, his soft brown eyes darkened ever so slightly. Long legs, Toby noticed, more muscular than his husband's, but long and beautiful nevertheless. He said so quite gravely, quite openly.

Archer started slightly but nodded, accepting the compliment with a grave little bow. "Thank you. I aim to please." Toby was aware that his lover was on his way back with the Fairy Queen, and still he didn't want to leave this surreal little moment

Archer didn't seem to have noticed their surroundings either, for his eyes had darkened a little more as he leaned closer, a hand reaching out to touch. "You look very heated," he commented, laying a cool hand on a reddened cheek.

Toby was already slipping away on a haze of dizzying eroticism and vengeful jealousy. The simple touch of those rough-skinned fingers made him half-close his eyes and purr contentedly. Let Jareth see, then! Let him feel this brief attraction, even if it was Jareth himself that Toby could picture through his half-closed eyes. Toby could feel Jareth approach, could feel Jareth's curiosity at his languid passivity. Toby never showed this to anyone else and even to Jareth only in private. The mortal licked his lips again.

Archer smiled as he allowed his fingers to trickle down and brush against the choker. Crowding the mortal back into the wall, he hooked a finger beneath the black band and pulled gently upwards. Toby arched pliantly towards him, red mouth welcoming, blue eyes dreamy.

The people around them were beginning to whisper and nod towards the two, agitating over the Fairy Lord's man-handling of the Goblin King's companion. That the two had often passed a discarded lover on to the other was no well-kept secret. But to share him between them at the same time was new. And the pretty child in Archer's grasp was not helping to make the matter less controversial.

Toby felt the full force of the rage as his husband saw what he was doing. And almost instantly he was sorry, scared, sliding out from between the wall and Archer to look stricken and uncertain. Poised for flight in case of emergencies. Because Jareth looked angry enough to lash out.

The music halted. Everyone stopped talking to gaze from the wide-eyed mystery companion to the furious Goblin King. Archer and Amarild melted away, the latter with no great reluctance to be away from her host. Archer philosophically shrugged it away. Jareth wasn't upset with him. The Goblin King had assessed the situation in a quick glance and had discarded his cousin as blameless. At least it would serve to show Jareth where the real problem lay. It was only to be expected that Jareth couldn't possibly know how uncertain his young lover was of him. Well, now he did and Archer watched to see what would happen.

A nod of the moon-blond head and Toby went to his husband, a plea for mercy in his eyes. Jareth said nothing, showed nothing on his face as he grasped a thin arm harshly in his hand and jerked him towards the door he had just exited. "Out," he said shortly.

Toby quickly obeyed, startled to find himself on a balcony beneath the night sky. The star-less sky was clear and inky, the moon hanging low and full over the gleaming walls of the Labyrinth. The rush of cool air on his face was like a bath of cold water, waking him instantly from whatever dream-like state he had fallen into. He gasped quietly as he rubbed his eyes, shaking his head to clear the lightness.

"What were you doing?"

Toby turned and shook his head again. "We were talking," he protested, "Archer was playing along with me. It was just a joke."

"A joke? He all but branded his name on you in public with your consent. That is your idea of a joke?"

"Jareth, we were just fooling around!"

The Goblin King hissed his displeasure, grabbing his bond mate and dragging him close. "Jokes are amusing," he ground out, "You just made a fool of me in front of everyone, my child. I am not amused by that."

It wasn't fair! The apology disappeared in a blaze of righteous indignation. "Really? And what about you?" Toby spat back, "You went off with the bloody Fairy Queen, you jerk. You brought her out here to a balcony to do what? Settle trade agreements beneath the silvery light of the moon? I don't care if you flirt with someone else, Jareth, but for God's sake at least let me know if you're interested in another woman. Especially when I'm carrying your child!"

"Interested?" Jareth suddenly saw what Archer had seen. "You were jealous of a private discussion I had a woman I hate?"

"Yes. If you can go into private corners with some bitch with great tits then I can enjoy a private joke with your cousin."

Toby pulled himself out of Jareth's hold and flung himself in a raging temper to the railing of the balcony. He kicked the wall a few times, cursed when it hurt him and the wall remained stoically unresponsive, and then stared down at the peaceful garden below.

Jareth felt the petulance and the rage, which were both emotions he could handle. He himself had regained his good nature the moment he realized that Archer had simply let Toby seek revenge with someone whom the Goblin King had no need to worry about. No, what worried him now was the added bonus of clear depression and shame that his bond mate seemed to be feeling.

"Come here, my elf," he called quietly.

Toby moved his head but did not seem to want to listen to him.

"Toby." Jareth deliberately hardened his voice. "You gave yourself to me for tonight. The night has not yet passed."

Toby turned and walked defiantly to his lover, head high and curled blond hair flung back. But the blue eyes were dull behind the black velvet mask and the extravagant costume seemed listless and tasteless without the mortal's spirit to lend it the decadent innocence.

Jareth reached out to stroke the choker about Toby's throat. Smirking slightly, he imitated Archer and hooked his finger into it, forcing the mortal to arch up as he pulled gently. The slender throat was laid bare, exposed to his every whim and fancy. And he shamelessly rejoiced in that, licking over the salty skin and biting softly over the vein that thrummed beneath with blood. Allowing his quiet enjoyment to be fully exposed.

Toby made no sound and made no move, letting Jareth do what he wanted with no encouragement from himself.

"Why would you imagine I desired that scheming witch?" Jareth murmured, pausing for a moment to speak, "I brought her out here to talk business where we could not be heard. She called me a few names; I told her that I had no pointed desire to deal with her either; we agreed reluctantly to act for the good of our countries and came back inside. To see you and Archer behaving like lovers."

"I've never..."

"Do not lie to me, Toby. I felt the desire."

Toby shivered as pointed canines pressed once more against his flesh. "It was you," he whispered, melting into his husband's caresses, "He reminded me of you and I ached for you. Need you; not Archer."

"I'm right here," Jareth consoled, lifting his head to present his mouth. But he held it a hair's breath from Toby's mouth, tantalizing him with the closeness and teasing him by withholding it.

His lover whimpered, craning forward to capture his lips, but he held back, moving until the hand on Toby's throat was pushing the mortal away more than pulling him forward. Ah yes, Jareth smirked, revenge was sweetness itself.

"Jareth, please!"

"Come, my elf. We have guests to attend to," Jareth smiled, knowing his lover was hard and needing him.

Toby whined, low in his throat, still arching upwards, pressing himself against his husband and reaching to tangle his fingers in soft blond hair with silver tints. He brought a lock to his mouth, curling his tongue around it before sliding away. Jareth smiled and held out his hand.

Toby sighed, and looked pointedly down to the bulge in his loose black trousers. "I can't go anywhere like this," he reminded his husband pointedly.

"I believe you can," Jareth negated, smiling a feral little smile that made him look like a demon, "You gave yourself to my will."

"You're making me walk in there with a raging hard-on? Everyone will see!"

"Let them," Jareth suggested, running a soft hand over a thin hip, "Consider this my brand on you."

Toby shivered, the warm rush of relief flooding through him again. It made him feel unbelievably free to know that Jareth could make the decision without his consideration. He didn't have to think, he didn't have to plan; he simply had to exist for his master's pleasure. And he exactly what his 'master' considered pleasure.

He sighed quietly as they made their way out through the door behind the tapestry again, Jareth smiling innocently at all the dropped jaws as Toby blushed slightly behind his mask and half-hid a little at his husband's side. Archer smirked at the two of them from his seat beside two tall blond males from the Ivory Tower.


	13. Velvet Goldmine

Author's Note: Continues just at the end of the ball. For those who did not read the updated Chapter 11, the Elf Lord is named Pelinlas (thanks to Navaer Lalaith and her website on Tolkien's elvish). The name means 'Fading Leaf', which I thought to be appropriate.

Author's Note 2: Obviously have no claimto 'Velvet Goldmine' (the song); all rights belong to David Bowie.

---------------------------------------------

The two were standing on opposite sides of the room, conversing with different groups of people. Toby was intent on being the most outrageous person he could be, deliberately weaving dramatic tales and exclamations into his voice to seem as someone other than who he was.

Every so often, though, he would catch a glance from a pair of dual-coloured eyes across the room, and the noise around him would soften to a distant roar as Jareth nodded and smiled. He would blush and look away, careful not to stand near anyone smoking and very discreetly drinking nothing that he did not pour for himself. Arienne had warned him that the pregnancy would be a delicate one, being as his body was not really constructed for it. And already he felt he would give his life for the child inside him.

Through the course of the evening it had become clear to many that the young male who had captured the Goblin King's attention so very thoroughly was not only capable of being less than innocent, but was alas not someone who flirted with anything more than mischievous intent.

Lord Pelinlas noted it to a Goblin dignitary, talking quietly to the other older persons while sipping on a single glass of wine. Death was weighing heavily on his limbs and the reflective solace it brought sometimes blanketed out every other presence around him. But for once, the Elf Lord felt life stir in him as he watched the invisible link stretch achingly tense between the Goblin King and his bond mate.

He smiled slightly, wondering what Jareth would say were he to shoo the two of them off to their bed chamber in front of everyone. The Goblin King would be insulted; Jareth would simply laugh. There were so many sides to the half-goblin that sometimes the elf wondered if such a youth was not the wisest decision that Jareth had ever made. Toby would, at least, have the chance to grow with him, not around him.

"Pelinlas?"

And speaking of Jareth... "Jareth. Your wine is especially fine tonight. Cinnamon?"

"Yes," the Goblin King grinned, "And how my father would rage were he to know. Cinnamon was never one of his favourites."

"As were male-to-male bindings," Firielas mentioned, noting the immediate look of dark anger that descended over the carved features, "Does Toby know?"

"No. And it will remain that way." Implacable. Jareth had no trouble disposing of someone who he had once held dear. He had had the practise of it at too impressionable a time to know any other way. And Pelinlas was wise enough not to doubt that.

"Very well. But one day your consort will need to be told," the Elf Lord warned, "The burden is too much for you to bear now. What happens when you hold your son in your arms, knowing what you know about yourself?"

"When that happens, Toby will there," Jareth sighed, a grey look descending over his face. For no reason at all the Goblin King looked weary and heartsick. Unbeknownst to him, Toby felt that, breaking off all conversations to walk quickly to where his lover was suffering. "He will protect my son when the time arrives."

"You do not doubt it will arise?"

Jareth shrugged. "How can I doubt it? My father scarred me for life. Experience tells me that such scarring carries from generation to generation. If once a goblin kills, chances are his offspring will inherit the ability. My father's crime was no less and my symptoms are not reassuring."

Pelinlas nodded behind him to the wide-eyed youth who stood looking anxiously from one to the other. Jareth stiffened as he felt the presence, already berating himself for speaking of it so openly. The touch of an elvish hand on his cheek stilled him. "Your father's crimes were worse," the elf promised him, "But remember he acted from love; seeking to protect only what was yours by right."

Jareth nodded, pressing silently against that hand. Over four hundred years ago he had first felt it when running through his Labyrinth, determined to escape from the shame that haunted him day and night. And Pelinlas had emerged from the safety of his tree dwelling to comfort a sobbing child in the pouring rain. Jareth had received much from that hand- education, comfort, joy and finally a blessing. It gave him the strength to push the darkness from him and nod, stepping away with a short bow to take his bond mate for a short walk around the room on their own.

Most people were drunk or well on their way to being so. The Castle was expected to be full to bursting capacity with those who were unable to make their way to their own homes, and with those who wanted to forget normal life with an equally free lover beneath the Goblin King's roof. Toby sometimes wondered if near-immortality made someone want more sex. Or whether it was just the high physical awareness that the goblins and fairies seemed to possess.

Toby sighed in distraction, head rising to look Jareth in the eye once more. But the half-goblin was gazing elsewhere, a hard look on his face that belied the dizzying wave of sorrow that Toby felt reflected into his mind. It was all very peculiar. "Tell me about your parents," he tried softly, "I know nothing of your family."

"And that is for the best." Jareth's hand had unconsciously tightened on his husband's waist, digging deep even through the corset and the white shirt to leave bruises. "My father was proud; a good king and a responsible parent. My mother was proud too, embittered from living amongst those who despised her but thankful for the son she could call her own. They were magnificent people and terrible parents. Neither would have approved of you."

"Oh." That was not encouraging.

Jareth seemed to be reading his thoughts again- "Had my father been alive, I would have been refused permission to formally bind with you. As my King, he had every right to do so, as I will have with our child."

Toby squirmed. The fingers were becoming almost unbearable and yet, they seemed as much a part of this game they were playing. He had craved such a contact for many weeks now, unsure of how to broach the subject with Jareth. And the Goblin King was always careful never to push him beyond the limits of safety, unfortunately; it was what made the night so appealing to him beyond Jareth's pleasure.

"So you're saying that he had the right to make your decisions for you? What if you were old enough to do that yourself?"

"I was never old enough until I was King. The age of majority is twenty-nine for any except the heir. I could not exist except for the good of the Kingdom as dictated by its King. And in any case, even were my father alive today, he would still have to be consulted as you are extremely underage at sixteen."

"I am?" Toby turned that over in his mind. He had never thought about it, but most people his age were concerned more with school and dates and jobs and drinking until all hours of the night. Heck, most guys his age were interested in saving up to buy cars. No one he could think of was likely to be dealing with a husband and baby. Except maybe Stephanie Holster- "Oh God, I'm Stephanie Holster!"

Jareth frowned slightly. "I thought you were Cloud," he asked dryly.

"No, not that, but I'm having a baby and I'm too young to have a baby! Never mind the fact that I'm male. What's going to happen to me when I turn twenty-one and I get fat and boring?"

Jareth blinked. And then laughed, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "Oh Gods," he sighed, "My elf, I think you are being a little melodramatic. Yes, you are young, but there are many who have children at your time of life. And simply because the age of adulthood is twenty-nine, it does not mean that sixteen year olds are forbidden from marriage. It is a natural process. And no, you will not get fat."

"I won't? Keep talking."

Jareth pulled him into his arms, one hand pressing lightly against the mortal's middle. "You will simply get swollen," he soothed, "Your abdomen and stomach will be distended, but have you ever seen a pregnant woman?"

"Yeah. And she looked frazzled and uncomfortable and... oh. Eugh!"

Jareth chuckled once more, reaching up to take a golden curl in his fingers. "Many would find it attractive."

"Are you telling me you find pregnant woman attractive?" Toby was not quite certain whether to be flattered or repulsed. "You know, you're weird."

Jareth grinned. "Think, luv. Under all that expanse of mid-section will be our child. Are you expecting me not to find that attractive?"

"Let's change the subject," Toby begged hurriedly. There was a rather wild look in his husband's eyes. And while the whole purpose of this night was to completely surrender to the Goblin King's will, there were still certain places he didn't want to go.

"I'm afraid we cannot. I think I should announce your condition before everyone is too drunk to remember."

Toby looked around hopefully, looking for at least a few of the drunks he needed to postpone the announcement. Unfortunately, they all looked distressingly sober for what Jareth had in mind. He sighed, looked up to the half-goblin's enquiring eyes and nodded. "I guess so," he ceded.

Jareth squeezed his arm sympathetically. "You may leave if you wish," he whispered, leading him to the centre of the room, "I can handle them alone."

"It's my body, Jareth. And this binding works both ways, right? You get to keep me safe; I stand by you. Oh crap, I'm standing by my man!"

The boy looked so disgusted with himself that Jareth ended up pulling his bond mate to him and placing a sound kiss on his mouth before letting him go. Turning, he cast his eyes over the assembly and clapped his gloved hands for attention. His presence seemed to grow to fill the entire room.

"Guests and friends," Jareth called, "A few moments of your time, if you please." The last of the conversations drifted away. "Judging by the quantities of spirits that my goblins have brought in here, I think it is now safe for the unmasking to take place."

Jareth himself had been walking around with a black demon's mask in his hand, negligently laying it down somewhere only to pick it out of thin air when he felt like wearing it again. For the most part he had remained unmasked, leaving his face free for recognition by his guests and servants, though none but the most visually impaired would have failed to note him by his wild blond hair or black-encased slender body.

"On the stroke of thirteen, let the masks fall," he instructed.

"It's the thirteen hour?" someone called dubiously, "I am certain there is more time left for that."

Jareth sighed theatrically and pointed a long finger to the enormous clock in the room. "Time moves in mysterious ways, my friend," he smiled, moving the hands as he sped it to less than a minute before the appointed time. A general laugh greeted his action and the dissembler raised a silent toast to the Goblin King. "We have thirty seconds," he shouted.

There were no countdowns or bated tensions in the room. Everyone simply watched the hands of the clock, waiting like statues for that one moment when the clock would chime. The clock itself was noiseless, seeming to make no sound at all as it idled away the seconds with a carefully precise rhythm.

The clock chimed.

The masks were ripped off and everyone turned to look at their companions, some with feigned surprise, others in real wonder. Jareth chucked his black demon's mask away with a careless hand, more for effect than for any reason to reveal himself. And then he turned to Toby.

Toby was afraid. Not for the first time he wondered whether his behaviour would not have severe repercussions. His rapist had never been caught and he had sworn an oath, ridiculous as it was, to never give to anyone what his tormentor claimed for himself. Now, not only was he married but he had publicly flaunted himself as some kind of tarty tramp. He shuddered to imagine what his punishment would be.

Jareth seemed to realize that for he reached to take his secret into his arms, tilting his chin up as he pressed a soft kiss to the wide mouth. "Obey me," he whispered.

In the end it was that which made the mortal wrench the mask from his face, pulling it away to dangle from one finger.

In spite of his worry, the Goblin King felt a bolt of possessive pride slam down his spine at the collective gasp of surprise at his lover's wild, exotic look. It was not that he was simply better looking than anyone else in the room. There much in his bone structure that was wrong or muddled- his mouth was too wide, his cheeks were too hollowed, his eyebrows arched a dark blond with too flamboyant an arc- but together... Jareth would not have traded places with anyone else in the room for the world.

"Honoured guests and friends, may I present to you my consort- Toby Williams." A fae lady broke into a coughing fit, stunned to find that the man she had been making suggestive remarks to all night was, in fact, her host's bond mate.

Jareth, for his part, did not care about all those who looked uncomfortable at the memory of something they had said or done to the mortal youth. He drew Toby's cold fingers through his arm, establishing his claim very firmly. "I would like to make an announcement," he continued coolly, "The Goblin Kingdom has long awaited an heir. The wait is over. The heir is conceived and will be birthed in six months."

There was complete silence at first. But slowly, the goblins came forward, determined not to let their King be disgraced before the faeries, no matter their private thoughts. And the dwarves were happy enough for the couple, more used as they were to adapting to strange customs or changes in circumstances.

The two blond humans from the Ivory Tower were stunned to watch the Fairy Lord push to his feet, pale and ghostly over the news. Amarild looked visibly disgusted, her pretty mouth screwed up with distaste over the business. She came forward and stood before the Goblin King and his mate. Jareth moved slightly to put Toby a little behind him, challenging her with his eyes to dare voice her actual opinion. "May the Gods find favour with you," she finally said stiffly, dropping a light curtsy before retreating.

Archer was equally stiff and Toby stared after him with no little trepidation, only to find Jareth laughing silently beside him. He raised enquiring eyes at him. His answer was a gentle kiss that made him gasp. "Do not worry," Jareth petted, "He will come around."

The ball ended on a lighter note as everyone used the excuse of shock to either retreat to their allotted bedchambers or cluster around the tables still groaning with drinks. The food had long ago disappeared; only to be replaced by sweetmeats and creamy chocolate as the wine and spirits were replaced by brandies and liqueurs.

It was almost the dawn when Jareth and Toby found themselves straggling back to their private corridor, stopping their slow progress to kiss gently a few times. Toby let himself be moved as Jareth willed, begging silently for more even though he unconsciously pushed that desire into the darker recesses of his mind.

The door closed behind them with a quiet click, shutting as Jareth turned and motioned to his husband to strip.

Toby sighed, drained beyond all measure by the exertions of the night, but the night was not over and Jareth had received only half his present. He pulled off the thigh-length boots, glad to come down off the high-heels that made his arches ache. A simple tug at the feathers pulled them loose from his curls and he went to the dresser to place them on the table.

He could see Jareth's patient face in the mirror, and he looked to him. There was so much he wanted from him, but true to form he had no way to ask. It wouldn't work if he had to ask. Jareth would have to find out for himself. He carefully shut down that path of thought as he efficiently wiped the make-up off his face. That done, he looked once more to the black draped figure by the door.

"I need a little help with the corset," he said softly, "I can't reach the back."

Long white fingers ghosted down his spine, slowly unhooking the bone contraption. Toby heaved a sigh of relief as the thing came off him, allowing unrestricted breathing for the first time all night. Hands rose to massage his shoulders, easing the tension from them with sensitive fingers.

"Come to bed, luv. You're tired."

"But I haven't given you your present yet," Toby teased, smiling at the reflection in the mirror.

"Let's keep it for the morning, hmmm? When both of us are rested?" Jareth's voice sent little shock waves down his spine as the Goblin King nuzzled lightly against his hair. "My elf...my velvet goldmine."

"What?"

Mismatched eyes glinted in the gathering light of dawn, the candles flickering as the wind whispered around the room. The silver and blue furnishings were cast into shadow where the light did not touch. And Toby was so tired.

Jareth smirked gently and turned his lover, pulling him gently to the bed as he began to hum the song:

"_Velvet goldmine... you stroke me like the rain..._"

Toby laughed and followed, collapsing on the bed and pulling Jareth down on top of him, sighing as the weight of the half-goblin pressed him into the mattress.

"_Velvet goldmine... naked on your chain... I'll be your king volcano right for you again and again, my velvet goldmine..._"

Toby shut his eyes, unable to keep the smile from his face as Jareth crooned the words in his ears. "You have the funniest romantic songs," he commented sleepily.

Jareth flicked the tip of the short nose and bit at Toby's neck, unlacing the choker so his husband could sleep. It had been a long time since he had sung this song; many years since he had written it and he'd forgotten just how dated the lyrics were:

"_You're my taste, you're my trip, I'll be your master zip... I'll suck your hair for kicks, you'll make me jump to my feet... so you'll give me your hand... give me your sound... let my sea wash your face... I'm falling; I can't stand..._"

Toby muttered something and Jareth gathered him up into his arms, magically lifting both to a comfortable position, and then pulling the blankets up over them. He continued with the humming, remembering how wonderful life had been when he'd written that song, doing hash with a beautiful woman, watching her tie his hands with a chiffon scarf... and now here he was, resting with another such one in his arms.

His fingers slid down to trace the knife scar on his lover's stomach, mindful of what grew inside it. The thought of a child made him faint, sickening him with fear that only served to anger him. His child would not be harmed; nothing would happen!

"Promise me," Jareth whispered softly, "Promise me that you'll stop me hurting our child." An innocent... his child...

Jareth went to bed with a headache.


	14. Realization

Author's Note: This is slightly less intense (in my humble opinion). But it leads directly into the next chapter (again) and therefore is only a Part One of sorts. Toby's needs are about to be sorted out, and with it, the true identity of what they really want from each other.

--------------------------------------------------

"Jareth, what are you doing?"

The Goblin King looked up from his desk and scowled. "Why are you out of bed?"

"I was cold," Toby protested, "I couldn't sleep. Why are you here?"

"Because I'm the sodding King of the Goblins," the half-goblin snapped. The pen went crashing against an ink-smudged wall. The ledger followed, spilling sheets of papers and a list of number-like marks.

Toby looked at the pen, the ledger and the little goblin that was sitting at his desk in the corner as if hoping that no one would remember his existence. The room was bare, full of journals and locked cupboards and had nothing more than a scattered multitude of lamps to warm it. Like the library and his bedroom, it was one of the few rooms in the Castle with actual windowpanes and curtains, though it still managed to be freezing cold.

The mortal sighed and beckoned to the terrified clerk. "Go. His Majesty doesn't need you any more tonight."

Jareth said nothing as the goblin thankfully bowed to each of them in turn and then left, efficiently quick at running away.

There was silence until the door shut.

"What do you want, Toby?"

Six and a half months pregnant and Toby definitely did not like that tone of voice. He had heard it used to a goblin that had ended up in an oubliette for a week. Unconsciously he folded his hands protectively over the ever-widening girth of his mid-section, a flicker of doubt in his blue eyes.

"You haven't answered me."

"I just wondered where you were," Toby replied. He refused to voice what had brought him struggling from his bed at three o'clock in the morning- heavy with child and sleep and various other ailments- to this stone-cold room near the forbidden top level of the Castle, to a lover who barely slept in the same bed as him any more. He hoped that the desperation was not clear through their bond.

Mismatched eyes narrowed in speculation, seeing a hint of some sort in the unnaturally stiff little body. Not that it was all that little any more- the formerly flat stomach seemed to grow rounder by the minute, Toby's joints were all swollen and to top it off the boy never ever emerged from under the most voluminous clothes he could find. At this time of night, Toby was wearing an oversized shirt and a coat the size of a tent, along with loose trousers. While the Goblin King could understand the human's need for warmth and comfortable clothes, this was really just carrying things too far. And he had too much else to think about besides a man in denial over his own pregnancy.

True to form, the mortal shifted uncomfortably beneath that dark gaze. Toby felt the now-familiar prickle of fear as the male he'd married got gracefully to his feet and swayed towards him through the shadows. The sight took his breath away, made him tremble where he stood and freeze altogether when long white fingers reached to tangle in his hair.

"Still no answer?"

"Jareth, don't."

The fingers dropped and the Goblin King stepped back. "Go back to bed," Jareth muttered, striding away to retrieve his pen and ledger.

Thin shoulders slumped for a moment and were forcibly straightened. Toby hesitated a minute. "Aren't you coming?

"Surely you can sleep alone?" The silky voice was cold and brutal, attention already seeming to be directed to something entirely different.

Toby opened his mouth to say something and thought better of it. So few months into this peculiar marriage and it was long enough to make him fear the half-goblin. His bond mate was not someone to challenge. And while the very thought of Jareth exacting a particular form of punishment was not something Toby was particularly averse to, he wasn't sure he could handle Jareth in a real towering rage. Not while he had no assurances that their child would not suffer the consequences. Shaking his head slightly, he flexed his fingers to grip the door handle.

Jareth's head snapped up as the dull throb echoed into his own body. "Wait!"

The fire-blond jumped and turned a little too fast, his bulk throwing him off balance to land heavily in his husband's arms with a breathless exclamation- "Ow!"

"Are you all right?"

"No! I'm as big as an elephant and I'm about to give birth in three months. How the hell do you think I am? Get off me!"

Jareth let go, ensuring only that his lover was safely supported by the wall before backing away. "I meant the pain."

"Pain?" Toby asked, looking genuinely bewildered. "What pain?"

"I felt you ache. What happened?"

Toby looked to the handle with a puzzled frown and down to his hands. Pain? Oh! His confusion cleared as he realized what Jareth had felt. "My hands," he explained, holding them out, "They're a little swollen."

Jareth took one look at the red appendages and grimaced in concern. "A little?" the Goblin King echoed, "Your fingers are the size of small branches! Why the devil didn't you say something?"

Golden skin tinged pink at the question as the hands were drawn back and hidden in warm pockets.

Jareth gave up. "The pregnancy," he guessed.

Toby nodded silently and stared resolutely over Jareth's left shoulder. He didn't want to talk about it. Being pregnant was bad enough without squirming with embarrassment for having to be in the state he was. It was humiliating to have to roll out of bed like a barrel, or lean backwards for better balance, or go to the toilet so often because his bladder was compressed. And Jareth would just dismiss them. The Goblin King didn't understand and Toby wouldn't- couldn't- tell him just how awful it was. And whom could he blame?

'_How does the pregnancy work?_'

Jareth had tried to pull back, to rein them in. What had Toby said? Toby had said he'd do it. Hang the consequences if he could only get fucked. Wasn't that what it had been? Just for the bloody sex! Everything just to get a dick up his arse. What kind of person did that? How desperate did it make him? Well, it served him right because now he was… and he had to… and it was a child that he loved!

Soft hands touched his face, cupping his chin and forcing his face up to Jareth's gaze. "Stop," Jareth asked, "This silent anger at yourself is not healthy- not for you or the child."

The lamps flickered as Toby's pride began to assert itself. Sensing the potential damage to his work, Jareth quickly transported them to their bedchamber. There, Toby could scream and rage all he wanted without the bother of precious books in the way.

And Toby did scream and rage. Jareth stood off to the side and stayed away both physically and mentally until Toby finally fell off balance and landed on the floor, the room a shamble of shredded cloth, splintered wood and broken china. The windows he'd had inserted in deference to his lover's condition and the cold of the Underground winter were all shattered, not helping matters by allowing the frigid air to stream into the room and create even more chaos.

"Tell me what's wrong," Jareth sighed, petting the gold hair gently. Even in his misery Toby would not let his body come into contact with him. "Why are you upset?"

"Look at me, Jareth. I'm a freak."

"You're not. I've told you that before. You knew this would happen if you fell pregnant. You accepted this."

"I accepted it in theory!" Toby pulled away from that hand, rising awkwardly to his feet and refusing to turn around to look his husband in the eye. "You needed children. We were in love and there was no way to say no when you… and you had to ask. You made me decide, Jareth. Why did you make me say yes?"

The Goblin King was now irrevocably confused. That Toby couldn't cope with having children he could understand; but with agreeing to it? Why was that an issue? He held his tongue and let the youth ramble on, pushing gently against the agitated mind to pick up on what Toby might leave unsaid.

"I would give you the world," Toby murmured, "Given you everything." A splashing sound could be heard from beyond the Castle as the waters of the rivers and lakes began to churn in their beds. "But you had to ask. You shouldn't have asked."

"You want me to take it?"

Jareth had only meant to reason with his lover. He was not expecting to see the blond head dip and rise in agreement. He did not expect to see the thin body hunch away from him with shame. And he certainly did not expect to feel the yearning need to forget slide into his mind. Was Archer right about Toby?

"_He needs something stronger than you have yet given him. He needs you to show him what he needs._"

Jareth pulled Toby back against him, wrapping an arm around his chest to hold him in place. Toby shivered and struggled a little, but made no actual move to break free. Jareth breathed in the scent that clung to his bond mate's hair. The gold strands were brighter and silkier than ever, hanging overlong down his neck in a wavy mat.

A plan began to form. True, war was brewing between the Goblin and Fairy Kingdoms, but Toby didn't need to know that now. He didn't need to know that at all until it actually happened. Not while he needed to be kept rested and at peace. At which thought Jareth only smiled, for he was going to disturb that peace just a little. It was the only way to bring his husband to a proper rest.

"Go to bed," he ordered, releasing him, "I have some business that needs to be finished tonight. I will see you when I am done."

Toby looked around in some surprise, but something flickered in blue eyes when he saw the look on the Goblin King's face that forbade him to argue. It was almost a look of gratitude, which was quickly quenched when the boy nodded and meekly lay down, drawing the curtains around their bed in a habit he had recently acquired. Jareth shook his head and left the room.

Slipping silently out of the Castle on noiseless paws, the white tiger took off at an easy lope for the snow-dusted Labyrinth.

It had been a long time since Jareth had enjoyed a midnight run in this shape. And it wasn't Toby's fault; he had simply never thought of it what with something or the other happening to disturb him. And his Kingdom was almost bearable when it was cold and silent as it was now, the Labyrinth beckoning him on with soft words.

The part of his mind that he retained in any physical form he adopted began to map out his path to Hoggle's cottage with as much accuracy as he could remember. He'd been there before; Hoggle was a convenient pawn to press into service. And of course, no other being besides Arienne knew half as many interesting potions for interesting things. Jareth sometimes wondered why the dwarfs had deliberately buried their ages-old medicinal recipes and forgotten them. But whatever the reason, Hoggle would know what he wanted. If not, he could damn well make it up and pray it worked!

The twisting turns began to melt around him as he descended into the Labyrinth proper, but he didn't stop. The Spirit would play a few games with him along the way, but Jareth rather enjoyed them. He kept his eyes open for the first one.

The dense mist that came down was not particularly original, but Jareth was quite enchanted with it. It called to its victims with a honeyed tongue, urging them to lose themselves in forgetfulness- one of his better ideas if he did say so himself. It would take a challenger a while to eventually roam out of there.

He had to stop when he burst out of the mist. His eyes were streaming and the mist made him sneeze. A night bird with dark blue plumage watched in surprise as the large tiger crouched for a moment and shook his head, sneezing a few times with cat-like grace. It let out a cackling cry as the beast began its hunt once more.

The Goblin King let out a roar in reply, practically whirling in delight. He bounded onto a low wall for a moment and enjoyed the thrilling theatrics of being a white tiger in a dark night. It was, he exulted, rather a nice feeling. But he drew the line at pawing at the sky. There were limits!

Leaping down, he took the first turn right on a hunch. The Labyrinth threw up a blank wall but that didn't faze him. He growled and swiped at it, clawing at the bricks hard enough to crack a few. Smirking inwardly- because unfortunately his tiger form could not do it for him- he stepped serenely right into it. The wall faded and shimmered around his body, giving way to the formidable belief that yes, he could indeed walk through a wall simply because he could. It was strength of mind that worked with the Labyrinth, and a childish spirit of adventure. Jareth had both in abundance.

The thought of his lover sobered him up.

He loped off again, padded feet barely touching the muddy ground with its snow and churned earth. Just another few minutes in a straight path and he should be exiting the Labyrinth. And then a run along the perimeter of the outer walls to the edge of the Flat Plains and Hoggle's little hovel should be there.

He was right.

Hoggle woke up with a start to find a large, white tiger in his room. The beast was panting slightly, lying by the fire with mismatched eyes turned gimlet-like on to him. Long, vicious looking teeth were discreetly obvious.

"Aaa!"

Jareth changed back and got up off the floor, chuckling evilly to himself. He loved doing that. "Well, well, Hidwart."

"Your Majesty!"

"Yes." Jareth waited only until Hoggle had tumbled to the floor in his haste to get out of bed to continue with his purpose. "I have a small task for you tonight."

"Tonight?" Hoggle gulped, struggling to get his pants on as fast as he could. He couldn't very well ask the King of the Goblins to leave so he could change. On the other hand, he refused to walk around all night in his nightshirt. "Uh, but it's night!"

"Are you refusing?"

"No."

"Good. I need a salve or paste of some sort, or even a potion; I don't care what form it is. What I want it to do is relieve pain and bring down swellings. Can you do that?"

Hoggle scratched his head. He knew the recipe, but... "I could," he admitted, "But I needs to get more Little Pine for that."

"Rosemary, you inept idiot. The plant is rosemary," Jareth snapped. Hoggle would, of course, translate the names of the herbs he used from the Old Language to English with no thought as to what the English names were. The Goblin King had once spent the entire night looking for White Pods when Hoggle meant vanilla seeds.

"Y- yeah," Hoggle stammered, backing up a step, "Uh, rosemary."

Jareth stared at him for a good long moment, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. He finally sighed with exaggerated exasperation and bent down. "Are you going to make it?" he asked sweetly, "Because if not..."

Hoggle was gone, a coat thrown over himself as he trotted off to his work shed. Jareth politely stayed where he was, standing in front of the fire and staring moodily into it. Cold or heat, neither really bothered either the goblins or the fairies. But dwarfs, elves and mortals were very susceptible to it. He reasoned it was due to a closer tie with nature than goblins or fairies had. Goblins liked nature, respected it and cared for it, and when the time came they could take it or leave it. Fairies were even worse. Elves and dwarves now- they lived in nature and through nature. Neither was happy unless they had wilderness around them or at least a tree in their backyard. And mortals? Well, Jareth was still not sure about mortals. They were the enigma in the bunch.

The sound of feet crunching over snow sounded and he looked up in time to see Hoggle return with a small pot and a bundle of things tied under his arm. The dwarf set his tools on the table and went to work.

At the best of times Hoggle could be a clumsy oaf- at least in the Goblin King's opinion- at the times that he was brewing something, he was quite simply the most precise machine going. The large fingers were no obstacles to the delicate measurements and the tiny boxes and bottles of ingredients. Jareth sat by the fire and watched.

An hour passed and Hoggle stared when Jareth suddenly sat bolt upright and looked tense. The watery blue eyes widened when the moon-blond head shook very emphatically and Jareth glared at the hearth as if about to accuse it of treason. The entire situation ended with the half-goblin jumping to his feet and growling, "Stay in bed, you fool! Before I chain you in!"

A candle was suddenly lit in the large head. "Oh," Hoggle muttered, turning back to stirring the hot water into his mixture, "That's who it is!"

Jareth began to pace up and down, hands clasped loosely behind his back and head down as if listening to something... or someone. "Toby," he said out loud, "I warned you to stay where you were. You will obey."

From the sounds of things, Hoggle almost sniggered, Sarah Williams' little brother was just like his sister- stubborn! And Jareth never could handle Sarah.

"Stop sniggering!" the Goblin King snarled, grabbing Hoggle by the ear and shaking, "Or I'll have you in the Bog of Eternal Stench before you can beg for your life!" His warning delivered, he then proceeded to throw himself in a chair and think dark thoughts for the rest of the time.

Another hour passed and this time, Hoggle was the one who moved. "Here," he sighed brusquely, "It's done."

Jareth yawned behind his hand and got stiffly to his feet, long fingers snatching the large pot up and into his hand. "Thank you," he said, "Take the rest of the day off to sleep."

Hoggle stared at the spot where the King had been standing. The rest of the day off? Jareth was certainly losing his mind if he was actually repaying him for his services. But he wasn't about to question such a thing, so he stripped off his clothes and tumbled back into bed with a happy groan. Bed!

Jareth was thinking much the same thing, appearing beside his own bed just moments later with the precious pot in his hands. It would soon be five-thirty in the morning and the sun rose just after six. And his room was still a shambles.

All except for his bed, which was like an enormous, blue curtained cubicle in the middle of the room. And somewhere inside that cubicle- sleeping like an angel with golden hair- was his own personal little poltergeist. Jareth was tempted to just start immediately. Teach the boy a lesson!

But he didn't.

Instead, he concentrated and mended his broken furniture and shredded furnishings before sending a call ringing through the Castle for ten goblin servants. In a minute, twenty were at the door of his suite, bowing low before their King as he stood awaiting them in the doorway. He selected the ones he wanted and threatened them with dire violence if they made so much as a sound as they worked. But both King and servants were aware that the threat was an empty one. Goblins could be cunning and silent creatures when they wanted to be. And though they would all deny it vehemently when asked, any in the Castle would do anything for their King's consort, who laughed and joked with them as if he were a goblin himself. And he was pretty too, which all goblins admired, and since they were his friends they were willing to do quite a lot to make him comfortable.

Once the debris was gone, Jareth summarily sent them away.

The room was back to its former glory and he took the opportunity to take a bath and change. It was somewhat refreshing to soak the cold and tiredness from his bones. And he had reached a very satisfactory decision on two subjects:

The first subject- he decided that he didn't care if the Goblin Kingdom went to war with the fairies. If Amarild offered peace, he would accept it. If not, they would fight. The goblins had won every major war for past millennium; he didn't see the pattern changing now.

The second subject- he would not and could not tolerate Toby's denials any more. The boy was about to wake up to a rather rude shock this morning. He was certain of that.

And Toby did wake up to a rude shock. For some reason he was lying in bed with the sunlight falling directly into his eyes, stark naked for the first time in two months and a pair of very cold, very angry dual-coloured eyes trained on him from the side of the bed.

It was not, he realized with a shiver that was part shock and part terror, going to be a restful day.


	15. Tension

Author's Note: This came out more 'R' rated than I intended. WARNINGS FOR ADULT CONTENT. Though, if you've been reading this far, this stuff really shouldn't faze you too badly.

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He reached hurriedly for a blanket and found, much to his horror, that the bed now had nothing but the sheets under him and the pillows at his head. Jareth continued to lounge silently in his chair and watch him, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth while his eyes remained like ice chips.

Toby was just opening his mouth to say 'good morning' when Jareth held up a hand and cut him off. "Silence," he ordered.

Toby sat up and brought his knees up to hide his stomach. He really didn't want Jareth to see it. It was disgusting and wrong and he didn't believe that even Jareth's kinky sense of the erotic could find this arousing. He hated his husband doing this, wished he would turn around and let him go dress.

Jareth crawled onto the bed, losing himself so far in the predatory feeling as to feel the tiger return. He heard Toby gasp as his sharp canines extended for just a second too long before returning to normal. The mortal was scared. He could almost smell the fear waft off him as he lunged.

Toby found himself on his back on the bed, a very harsh-looking Goblin King invading his personal space. He shivered at the look in those mismatched eyes. He would have whimpered if his throat hadn't closed in fright.

Jareth had a very definite idea of what he wanted to do. He was tired of being gentle, of being considerate. Toby might call him by those terms, but then never would he have been that for anyone but this disturbingly young boy. And sometimes, just sometimes, he wanted to ravage and maul and generally indulge his dark side. And if Toby wanted him to simply take what he needed... well, he was about to show his husband that wishes were dangerous things.

"Stay still," he growled, "We're going to play a little game."

Toby gulped and nodded slowly.

Jareth rubbed the back of his hand over a smooth cheek, feeling the faint rasp of stubble and enjoying the harshness on his skin. Without warning, he used magic to cleanse the skin, the quick burn dying away before Toby could let out a sound of shock. "Much better," the Goblin King commended, "I'm going to say a word, and you are going to tell me the exact reply that comes into your head. Hmmm?"

Toby nodded again.

Jareth leaned down to touch the tip of that little nose with his. "Oh, and if the word is wrong, you lose. Love!"

"You..."

Jareth smirked. "A good guess. That was practise. Now is the reality. Bed."

"Sheet."

"Chain."

"Armour."

"Tongue."

"Snake."

Jareth raised his eyebrows at that one. Snake? Perhaps, he allowed, smiling to himself, perhaps. "Very good indeed. Let's up the stakes a little." He raised his hand and Toby cringed back, only to watch as Jareth pressed against the carved panel above their bed to open a square niche in the wall that he had never seen before.

He watched the white hand reach inside that dark cubby-hole, emerging with two beautifully carved silver cuffs, each attached separately to a long silver chain. Had he been watching Jareth, he would have seen a disgusted look on the half-goblin's face. And he did feel the sharp stab of aching memory enter his mind. He felt his lover retreat from him just a little mentally, seemingly distancing himself so that his thoughts could not be heard. Toby didn't think he could hear them over his own very loud thoughts, himself, but the notion of Jareth's position in all of this remained somewhere in the back of his mind.

Toby didn't move until the cuffs were fastened around his wrists. Then he began to struggle, drawing quick breathes into his lungs as panic hit. Flashes of a low, rich chuckle and a pair of dark eyes seared across his brain and instinctively he twisted beneath his husband, fighting the chain, fighting the grip on his arms.

Jareth only held him down and let him fight. He wanted him to fight. He wanted him to hurt and ache and beg and he wanted to watch while he did it. When the mortal stilled, it was in desperation and fear... there was so much sorrow and fear in Toby.

"Another round," the Goblin King insisted. He shifted slightly like a cat getting comfortable. "Knife."

Toby froze.

Jareth quirked an eyebrow and offered him a knowing smile. "Your time is trickling away, my elf. One more chance- knife?"

"P- pain," Toby stuttered, looking away. He didn't want to see this. Even if he accepted this reality, he didn't want to see it, and he couldn't accept it just yet.

"Stab?"

"Blood."

"Cage?"

"Wolf."

"Need?"

"Bitch."

Jareth did a double-take as the word rang through the freshly cleaned room. "Bitch?" he echoed.

Toby coloured. It had sounded bad enough when he'd heard himself say it. But in Jareth's raspy voice, it made him think of all those dreams from the days before the Underground. All those times when an unknown being had forced him to do all those things that shouldn't have been exciting and somehow were.

Jareth felt the thoughts in his mind and pushed closer, needing to hear them. He frowned slightly, staring down intently into blue eyes that widened somewhat in fear. Toby's thoughts turned to their child and he heard his husband wonder desperately how to protect it should he need to.

Jareth smiled unpleasantly. So very maternal? And just so ashamed of it too! It was too much to resist tweaking a few psychological nodes to up the levels. And that brought him to Hoggle's little gift.

Mismatched eyes dropped to the swollen abdomen that rubbed up between his thighs. Jareth leaned over and picked up the little pot. Toby forced himself to keep breathing. The faint smell of rosemary scented the air when Jareth tugged out the stopper. He looked a little askance at the gooey salve but knew Hoggle would not get this wrong. The dwarf was too spineless to play a trick like that. He dipped two fingers in and set to work.

Toby jerked as the slick fingers dipped under the cuffs to rub the ointment into the skin of his wrists. The feeling of cool water ran into his veins. The fingers slid out after a slow moment and began to work on his elbows and shoulders and neck. He moaned lightly as the cool began to spread.

Jareth stifled a smile and continued. It was a massage of sorts, he supposed, but a necessary one for where he was taking this. He didn't want his lover distracted by a sudden twinge of pain from some protesting shoulder or knee. It would be an interruption of the worst kind. He worked down the slender body, stopping frequently to touch places that needed no salve but brought forth interesting reactions anyway.

"Jareth, what is this?"

"Preparation," Jareth promised, "You'll soon find out."

Toby closed his eyes and moaned again. The feeling was becoming more intense now that Jareth's hands travelled lower. His practically bit through his lip when the soft hands touched his hips. And Jareth still didn't stop, instead lifting each leg in turn to ease their discomfort in particular.

When the massage stopped, the mortal opened his eyes. "Thank you," he attempted.

Jareth said nothing, but from the hum he gave, Toby knew better than to hope this was an elaborate hoax. The salve was placed back on the table beside the bed and then Jareth got comfortable again. "Now where was I," he purred, "Oh yes- surrender."

Toby blinked in confusion and said nothing, thrown off balance by the verbal shot.

"Oh dear," Jareth smirked, laughing quietly as he let one hand rest lightly on the pregnancy mound, "I'm afraid that was a wrong answer. You lose."

Toby's eyes went wide just as Jareth's mouth came crashing down, swallowing whatever it was he meant to say with a brutal kiss that brooked no resistance. Toby didn't dare resist. He couldn't.

"Such a child," Jareth taunted, pulling away as suddenly to trace over the swollen lips. They were reddening and filling beneath the white pad of his forefinger, delicious and intoxicating. "Such a little thing, really!"

"Not exactly little any more," Toby muttered. He yelped in shock as a stinging slap descended on his hip.

"I did ask for silence," the Goblin King snarled.

Toby couldn't respond because his brain felt like it was slowly turning to liquid in his skull when another kiss landed on his mouth. It hurt to be kissed so roughly; but he could only press back up, achingly hard because of fright and hormones. Whether Jareth knew it or not, he gave no sign, breaking away to look down with as composed an expression as Toby had ever seen.

"Tell me, my child," the half-goblin ruminated, "Has Arienne told you about the birth?"

Toby blinked at the subject but nodded quickly, vaguely terrified of what would happen if he did not respond as expected. From the feeling his lover was giving off, silver chains were just a pretty piece of jewellery before the real rules were given.

"Wonderful. And has he told you how the babe will be fed?"

Toby had been told. He didn't like to think about it because it made him hyperventilate just to imagine it, but he did know. And Jareth spoke of it with such off-hand discretion, tossing it off as it was everyday that a man could breastfeed his own baby. As if it was perfectly normal to feel those curious flutters and twinges and tightness just there.

"Your mother has mentioned the symptoms in a woman, has she not? I wonder how sensitive yours are."

A cry wrenched through the air as Jareth's wandering fingers fastened and teased. Mercilessly. With that cool salve still on his fingertips. He stopped when Toby's hands flew to stop him. He let his eyes flick down.

"Keep your hands there," he whispered, slowly starting a gentle cycle of rubbing and tugging that eased the pain out. He half-closed his eyes, concentrating on the gradual build-up of pleasure that his young lover began to experience. Then he looked up, caught Toby's dreamy gaze and smiled.

The mortal had a split second to prepare before the sharp agony came, stabbing through him like a bolt of lightening.

Had he known, Jareth was actually being careful. He watched closely to ensure that Toby's body was reacting in a positive way, feeling the stiffening erection twitch and grow harder against his leg before daring to bring Toby back to pain. He didn't truly want to harm Toby. But pain? He had always himself found that just enough could be therapeutic. And whether Toby wanted it or not, his husband was about to find out that it could indeed be pleasurable.

When he finally let go, the mortal was half-moaning, half-gasping, tears standing in his eyes and his hips jerking to press against his torturer. Jareth's hands travelled down to the swollen belly. Instinctively Toby's hands rose to cover it, as if the small palms could really hide anything that big. Jareth just smacked them away with a warning growl.

"Do not hide from me," he warned, "Not in my bed."

"It's not your bed." The words were out before he could bite his tongue. He braced himself for swift retaliation. It never came.

"I see you claim the right of my spouse," Jareth commented. He ran a thoughtful hand down a slender thigh, noting silently that the boy was too thin for someone giving birth. "Very well, then. I concede your right."

Toby relaxed.

"It paves the way for me to claim mine," Jareth finished, sliding a casual finger beneath to plunge ruthlessly into his lover's body.

A burst of pain and sheer fright and Toby bolted, scrambling away as fast as he could to escape those hands. '_How dare you_,' he screamed mentally, '_How could you!_'

'_You belong to me_,' the Goblin King said in kind, '_You seem to forget that_.'

"I belong to no one," Toby said out loud, straightening himself.

A feral smile curved over the beautiful face before him, the smile that must have graced Lucifer's face just seconds before defying God. Toby feared Lucifer, and he certainly feared Jareth. Whether or not Jareth would intentionally hurt him was by the way, what he wanted was something Toby wasn't sure he could give outside of a dream. It was too raw, too passionate, too dominating. He'd been tied down before. He'd been brought to his knees before. And he had tried to kill himself through the shame of it. How could Jareth ask this of him?

'_I don't belong to you_.'

"Yes, you do," Jareth informed him, "You gave yourself to me once."

'_That was for one night!'_

"I let you hide, then. No more."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Toby whispered, getting to his knees and curling up, hiding himself away.

"I think you do," Jareth returned. He didn't move to cross the space between them.

"You're crazy!"

"For saying I have power over you?"

Toby couldn't negate that: Jareth did have power over him; Toby had given it to him himself! He had agreed to Jareth's terms and Jareth's traditions and Jareth's way of life. "I'm not like that."

The Goblin King didn't answer.

Toby knew that look in his eyes- "I didn't mean it like this! I'm not some kind of…"

"Of what?"

"I didn't give everything," Toby said defiantly, "I won't give it."

Jareth raised a hand and deftly found what he was searching for- "That's because I haven't claimed it yet."

With a mental flick borne of long practise and an infinite number of such games, Jareth delved into Toby's power centre and loosed it. He watched in satisfaction as the mortal doubled over, eyes glazing over as the rampaging magic shot sparks all through that golden body, mingling burning heat with intense pleasure. He wrapped himself around his lover's mind, forcing it to open to him, ripping into it with a callous disregard for the pain it caused.

To his credit, Toby didn't make a sound. He fell on his side with a long shudder, fists tightening in the sheets. Jareth was most impressed. His lover was usually more expressive, though granted the stakes had never been quite this high. Toby had never played for absolute control before. His little fire-blond did have strength in him!

Toby kicked out as a particularly vicious spike of magic dug into his spine, biting on his lip to stop a cry. '_You don't get to win this_,' he managed to say, refusing to loosen his tongue for fear of giving in.

A white hand reached to gently tilt his chin up and back. "I will."

The following hour passed like a blur. Jareth kissed him senseless for long moments in time, scholar's palms rubbing alternately hard and then gentle against his aching nipples, pressing close and sliding carefully against him, gentle where the magic was savage. And then the Goblin King had pushed him to his back and cupped the large expanse of his stomach in his hands.

The magic had continued to flow. There was no rhyme or reason to it and Toby was held captive to its sway, forced to surrender to it in order not to be driven out of his mind. Release seemed imminent too fast.

And then Jareth fixed that little problem for him. Toby stared in confusion at the length of black ribbon that the Goblin King trailed over his mouth. He shut his eyes in desperation as Jareth kissed him, the ribbon still soft between their lips. Toby obliged, tired and hyper and far too near to orgasm to care overmuch what happened to him. The only thing he kept control of was his voice. He would not scream.

Jareth wrapped the ribbon around the base of his erection and tied it off, effectively driving the climax further and further away while allowing the pressure to continue unchecked. Then Toby had cried. He hadn't screamed or shouted or said anything; he had simply let the tears fall, shaking with the force of pent-up emotions pounding through his soul.

Unknowingly, he let Jareth take them in. He let his husband absorb them and sort through them and sooth them with more pain and pleasure than he could handle. And he let himself be worked past the point of awareness to pure feeling. He was floating like driftwood in a storm and he could only ebb and flow as the waves pulled him.

Jareth watched. With greedy eyes and hungry mouth, he watched the golden body flush with desire and drape itself in a sumptuous feast across the white sheets. And he couldn't resist pushing for more. He hadn't planned to hold off his lover's climax; it had simply happened because Toby hadn't given in. Whether or not Jareth controlled both his mind and his body, the mortal would not admit it; he was still keeping a semblance of control and Jareth could not tolerate that.

The sun rose and shone fully on the both of them, drawing silver tints and golden highlights out of both. Blue eyes glowed with power and desire and dual-coloured ones darkened with victory and intensity. Soft white hands with long, artists' fingers traced time and again over the bump between them, caressing and casting sigils of protection and promise into skin though Toby couldn't have understood.

Minds merged and separated, flowing between one body and the other until it seemed as if they encompassed the entire room. What one saw, the other saw; what one felt, the other felt. It was like making love with one's mirror image and one's lover and his mirror image. Jareth could almost feel an answering ache in his own groin when he forced back another orgasm. Toby was beginning to drift out of his own body; the game had gone on too long.

But he wasn't done yet. He lay down between the partially spread legs and spread them wider. Toby propped himself up and looked down at him, drugged on need and panting raggedly. Jareth pushed the legs even further. He sat up and kept pushing. Toby's hands were currently lying placidly on either side of him, silver cuffs glittering on his wrists like shining beacons. Jareth didn't look at the cuffs, allowing himself only to think of why Toby had to wear them. Of the lesson he was teaching. He needed to remember that or he would pull them off himself and Toby wasn't ready yet to give in without force. Toby needed it. Jareth wanted to remember that.

"Jareth, please..."

He re-focused on the blue eyes. Toby was staring intently at him, the burning anguish of need lulled for the moment to something bearable. And the mortal was giving in.

"You belong to me," Jareth told him.

The golden head nodded meekly. "I belong to you. I exist for you."

The words would have sounded trite and silly if Jareth hadn't actually felt the truth in Toby's mind. It amazed him, really, that anyone could actually believe their sole purpose in life was to be with him. He had heard the lines so many times before but to feel the innocent confidence resonate so deep that there no conviction so firm... well, that sent an arrow speeding through his own body that required at least four deep breathes.

He owned his elf, and he couldn't ask for more than that. Innate savagery welled up and without thought, he yanked Toby's knees even further apart on the bed, spreading his legs right to the point of pain, wanting the dull ache of the muscles to contrast with what he was about to do. He looked up from under wild blond hair and half-closed eyelids and then struck.

Toby mewled helplessly and jerked beneath that talented mouth's onslaught. "Jareth, please! My King... Oh God, my King..."

Jareth could hear the words in his head, could hear Toby's thoughts run like a movie reel in his mind: '_Jareth, please! Make me! Love you; crave you. Make me scream. Don't stop, please. Don't stop if I ask. Belong to you... no one but you... my King**… **__master... mark me, brand me, use me... anything, I'll give you everythingfor this_."

The sentences got more disjointed as the pleasure built up. Toby's breath was coming in short gasps and small cries, arching helplessly towards Jareth's mouth so that his stomach rose proud into the stream of sunlight that pooled around them. And the Goblin King wanted to see that. He wanted to see his husband accept what he had just learned. He needed to see it.

Rising, he lay back on the bed and pulled his lover on top of him. "What do you need?" he asked.

He knew exactly how Toby would answer that- "I need you," the fire-blond answered, passion driving shame or modesty from his thoughts.

Jareth smiled. He was going to enjoy this part. "You have me," he pointed out, "Now take what you need from me."

Toby's jaw dropped. Golden fingers trembled over Jareth's face. Toby almost pictured himself taking Jareth, as Jareth had taken him for so many months. But he shied away from that thought. It didn't seem right to top, at least not yet. He noticed Jareth's indulgent amusement at the thought and grinned shyly.

"Perhaps we can compromise," Jareth remarked, settling his head back into the pillow beneath it, "You want to top me. I'm not ready for that." Toby could feel the very real buzz of fear beneath the flippant words. "But there are other ways to top."

Toby looked puzzled.

Jareth's talented and much-beloved hands showed him how. The fingers steadied the erection beneath and then Toby hesitantly sat down, clutching fearfully at his lover's body as he felt himself stretch. Jareth let out a groan of desire that sent the waves spiralling back and forth between them once more.

When he was fully sheathed in Toby's body, Jareth let go. He placed his hands firmly on Toby's stomach and nodded. "You once said you'd ride me. Go."

Toby blushed and stayed still. "I- I can't," he confessed, "It's too much, Jareth. I've given too much already."

The look on the half-goblin's face was terrifying. Toby had thought he'd seen Jareth at his worst. He had certainly never seen him when murder shone in his mismatched eyes. Sharp nails bit lightly into his skin and he whimpered in fear and pain and trepidation.

"What more do you want from me?" Toby demanded desperately, "You played with me for hours before this. I'm hurting, Jareth. I need you."

"Yes," Jareth snapped, "You need me. Do you think I don't hurt?" He thrust up hard into the willing body and waited for the moan to die down. "But it is not enough. If you want a fuck, you do it my way."

"That's not fair!"

Jareth really was beginning to see red. His nails dug in just a little deeper, leaving dark crescent marks in the pale-honey skin. "Have you learned nothing?" he bit out, "Is that it? You're scared of what you might find on the dark side of the moon? What do you fear? What do you crave?"

"You! I crave you!"

"Then take me! I give you my permission." Jareth felt Toby squirm on top of him, but still there was something holding the child back. "What do you fear?"

"This is wrong," Toby burst out. And miracle of miracles he rose up and then slammed down hard, grinding down into Jareth's hips with a savage force that knocked the wind from Jareth's lungs. "I'm not gay. If you take me I have an excuse. But this... Oh, God, this!" He was keening, sanity fled to a corner of the room as he rose up and down with rhythmic sequence. "This is me, my King, this is what I want. Fuck! I need you; I love you. Make me scream for you, Jareth. Make me tell you that I can't live without you inside me."

Jareth watched, astounded. He had expected a show. He hadn't expected this! His own orgasm was too close and he felt his own thoughts twist and turn into sensation as he was taken higher and higher than he had been for some time. Toby's hands were on him, clawing at his chest and arms as he begged.

The long golden-blond hair flowed down the slender back and Jareth let out a cry of surprise as he felt a tiny kick against his palm. Toby shrieked as he felt the child in him move, raking welts into Jareth's arms.

The sun burned hot against them, the first day in winter with actual sunshine, and the earth swirled and tipped with them.

Jareth felt the movements become erratic, he saw Toby close his eyes and felt the frantic mental grab that his husband made at him. He wrapped his mind securely around him. '_Hold on_,' he whispered.

Then he took hold of the knotted ribbon and magicked it away.

The earth stood still and then burst into white hot light that dragged them out of their bodies and up into sky, searing them with the rays of the sun.

Jareth was the first to return, his husband slumped unconscious on top of him, their bodies a sticky mess of fluids. Concern arousing energy, he laid Toby back down on the bed and checked him over. His pulse was too rapid but strong, his mind was just still flying above somewhere. There were no tears or injuries that Jareth could see.

The Goblin king rested a moment, fighting lethargy to ensure that his lover slipped into a healing sleep and not into a coma. He kept his hand on the large belly, willing the child within it to be safe. He felt another movement and smiled in relief.

Moving silently, filled with the sense of security and sated triumph, Jareth got the both of them cleaned before picking up Hoggle's salve again. After all that exercise, it was only natural that Toby's body would protest once he woke up. And hormones and body aches were not something the Goblin King wanted to handle simultaneously.


	16. The Abovegrounders

Author's Note: I never say anything about the others in the Williams family unless it's directly pertaining to Toby or Jareth. So I thought I'd write them a little chapter all their own. It's not intense and it's just fluff, I suppose. But I thought we could all do with a little less angst all the time.

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Karen got up from the couch and set her glass firmly on the table. She'd been wanting to have a private minute with Sarah all evening, and from the look of her stepdaughter, Sarah was bursting with news too. The two women had sat there impatiently while the men droned on about work and cars and the price of electricity. Now, they couldn't take it.

"Dinner should be ready," Karen announced, "Sarah, could you help me set the table?"

"Sure, Karen."

They escaped with both men shaking their heads knowingly.

"Women," Harold grunted, "Not a poker face amongst the lot of 'em."

"Want to bet on the subject?" Ben challenged.

"Don't need to." Harold scratched distractedly at his neck, "Only one thing my wife won't discuss in front of me."

He was right, though he couldn't hear the quiet conversation from the kitchen.

"Did you speak with him? Is he all right?"

Karen nodded and handed Sarah the plates. "He's fine. Very tired, but fine."

Ben popped his head in with their empty glasses- "Who's fine?"

"Karen had a talk with Toby today."

"I thought Jareth hadn't gotten around to fixing the mirror?"

"Mom complained and Jareth sent a goblin around to get it finished," Sarah explained.

Ben nodded sagely and decided not to ask. When it came to the Underground and all things Jareth-related, he preferred to smile and nod and try not to look too jealous. It was a part of his wife's former life that he wasn't quite sure he appreciated. Certainly he didn't appreciate knowing the Goblin King had been a rival. "And he's fine, is he?"

"Round as a beach ball, actually," Karen laughed, "He's very uncomfortable, poor lamb."

Harold heard the topic of conversation and hastily went back to his seat, stifling a grim smile of self-congratulation. He wasn't about to join in; male lovers and Goblin Kings he was still getting used to. Male pregnancies were something else entirely. Not that he didn't look forward to a grandchild; he just didn't expect his son would be the first one to fall pregnant.

Sarah smirked and shook her head. "He was pretty big when I saw him last week. Are his ankles still playing up?"

"A little. It seems Hoggle gave Jareth something to ease that."

Ben grinned. "Why? Are Jareth's ankles swelling too?"

The two women shot him a withering look each, effectively chasing him out of the kitchen before they started in on him. Sarah allowed herself a secret smile at his rapidly retreating back. And then turned back to her stepmother. "Um, did Toby tell you about Arienne's yelling match with Jareth?"

Karen shot a warning look at the doorway before shaking her head. "Later," she agreed, "Your father's going to come in here in a minute."

It was a long time later before the two found themselves able to talk. Washing dishes was not something either of them enjoyed, but since they needed to be done and since it afforded them a small bit of privacy...

"Toby said Arienne almost accused Jareth of trying to cause a miscarriage," Karen confided.

"Yeah, I know. And then forbade the Goblin King from sleeping in the same bed if he couldn't control himself. He did, um, tell you what Arienne was referring to, right?"

Karen went pink and looked casually down to her dishes. "He told me a little bit, yes."

The dark-haired woman at her side looked at her with a broad grin but said nothing more, apparently leaving the conversation hanging in that awkward silence until Karen was ready to say something for herself.

"Do you think it's healthy?" Karen finally asked, worry etched into her face. "I mean, if he wants Jareth to do that to him, then I suppose that's his choice. But games like that seem very dangerous. Especially now."

"They are," Sarah commented dryly, "Which is exactly why Arienne was so angry. But Jareth was being careful."

"He was? How do you know?"

Green eyes twinkled slightly. "I asked him. I had a little talk with Jareth about three days ago. After telling me that it was none of my business and that I had some nerve summoning him to read him a lecture, he told me that Toby needed it for peace of mind."

The soapy dish in Karen's hand almost crashed to the floor. "Peace of mind? Chaining him to a bed and behaving so roughly is meant to give him peace of mind?"

Sarah looked a little freaked out that Toby had told his mother the details of his sex life, but shrugged. Her little brother had spoken of it as if it were a personal revelation. It was only natural that he would want to talk it over with someone, even if that someone was his mom.

"The chains were very loose and they didn't really tie him down, if you know what I mean. They were just for appearance. Jareth was trying to get Toby to admit the way he felt. He said Toby was a little unhinged what with everything happening so fast around him and the pregnancy wasn't helping matters. He said the sex forced him to understand what he needed. Of course, being the Goblin King, Jareth used a lot of magical explanations and talked of suns and darkness and death. But that's just Jareth."

"Death?" Another dish fell back into the soapy water with a plop.

"Not in that way! Oh heck, he said if Toby didn't learn to deal with the- the darkness that he craved, he would learn to fear himself. Which apparently, in the Underground, can be fatal if it's taken to extremes. But Toby was nowhere near that yet. He was just struggling to accept it."

Karen relaxed and dried her hands; sitting down at the table while Sarah finished drying the dishes. It had been a long time since her stepdaughter had visited, and the older woman wished somewhat wistfully that she could go back in time to when Sarah was still living with them and Toby was just a baby. Then she wouldn't have to deal with growing old while her children went their separate ways.

Green eyes watched her sympathetically, knowing what was behind the sober expression. Lately, even when she smiled Karen looked tired. Sarah didn't quite like to think that her parents- well, dad and stepmother really- were going to age and die in the next twenty or so years. It felt wrong somehow.

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Hmmm?" Blue eyes so like Toby's looked up, distracted and distant until they refocused. "Oh! Yes, I suppose I do. He's just so young. He only turned seventeen a little while ago. I met a friend of his a few days ago and…" the woman shook her head, "Toby's a whole world away from everyone he's grown up with. I miss telling him to do his homework and turn his music down."

"You never told me to do my homework!"

"You were always locked away in your room, dear, and I didn't like to disturb you," Karen reminisced, "I didn't worry about your studies. Toby, now, was not a student."

"He was rather bored with his work," Sarah laughed.

"Bored? He used his notebooks for sketching! And now he's dealing with a marriage and a husband and a baby. I tell you, Sarah, I worry about him. It's strange to think that this madness all began about a year ago. Actually, it's strange to think to think that this madness has been happening all his life. Which it would have to be if those two bonded when Toby was a baby."

Sarah shifted in her seat. "I, uh, never did apologize for that, did I?"

Karen patted her hand comfortingly and smiled. "There's no real need to, is there? You were not very mature yourself, and both your father and I understood that finding your place in a new family was going to be hard. And you did bring him back."

"Yeah, I did. I didn't really want him gone. I just thought... you know, older sibling jealousy. Besides, it's all come right, now."

"Oh yes. Now Toby is married to the Goblin King, is having his child and is currently starry eyed because he shagged him through the mattress," Karen remarked acidly.

"Karen!"

"Well, it's true! Though I don't see him doing much, ahem, riding any more if his back keeps giving out on him. He said even the salve isn't working for that any more. Poor lamb, he's always suffered from back pain."

"It's a weak posture," Sarah said robustly, "And the fact that he fell off the roof when he was seven. Didn't he break his arm?"

"And his wrist," Karen nodded, "Sometimes I wonder if that child is quite sane."

"Hey, he's in love with Jareth! I don't think sanity is his strong suit here."

The two looked at each and burst into a fit of the giggles, completely oblivious to the fact that Ben and Harold were having much the same kind of conversation.

"So Toby's fine, then?"

Harold glanced over and shrugged. "He's doing well. I had a private talk with him last night, but please don't mention it to Karen. She'll want to discuss it and I've discussed this enough for a lifetime."

Ben grinned and leaned back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head. "That bad? Let me guess- he told you about finally settling things in his mind?"

"Told you the same?"

"No, his husband did. Sarah talked to Toby last week and whatever he said, she was angry for about two days after that. Could barely be civil even to our cat. She called on Jareth a few days ago, they had another argument, she threatened to make sure he couldn't have another child even if he wanted to, and they eventually settled down to talk. I listened in."

"Eavesdropping?" The older male was most amused. Ben was usually as honest as could be, but sometimes he didn't choose to be.

"My house," Ben explained succinctly, "Felt I had a right to know."

"Good! I'll tell Toby to go to you the next time he wants to talk about his sex life. Where that boy gets it I don't know!"

Ben held his tongue but grinned. In his humble opinion, no red-blooded man could ever honestly admit that he'd never thought of playing a few bedroom games with the partner of his choice, or that the games wouldn't include either chains or chocolate sauce or both. And the kid was only seventeen! He was bound to be as horny as hell what with his hormones in overdrive. And Jareth didn't seem like a priest either. All in all, if they didn't offer details, he was fine with whatever rocked their boat.

"So how are things with you and Sarah?"

"Fine," Ben admitted, "She's working on the next book so there are good days and bad days. But she's getting there."

"And work?"

"Pretty good, actually. I'm getting a raise, so we're thinking of buying a new car. My old one is dying on me."

Sarah and Karen sighed in exasperation as they walked into the room and settled down for their part of the conversation. Really! Did men always talk about the most conventional things?


	17. JraGurgh

Author's Note: I am about to do a very annoying thing- I am using my own language for the goblin language. It might be based on words from non-english languages, but in general, any resemblance it bears to an actual word is probably accidental. Oh, and the meanings will either be made clear in the story itself, or in the author's notes.

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"It's only a few days," Jareth sighed.

The goblin healer looked at him disapprovingly. "A few days means a lot in his condition, Sire. With all due respect, you put him in this mess; you should at least be there to see it through."

The Goblin King scowled at Arienne and slammed his hand onto the scarred desktop. "I am hardly going to run away," he protested, "The child can look after himself for a few days."

"A few days? He can barely sit up! Was I not the physician attending him, I'd say he was big enough to carry twins. The pregnancy is irregular; he has been bleeding; he is not capable of caring for himself for one day let alone two!"

"Arienne, enough! I never asked for war and I never asked to wear the medallion," Jareth snarled, tugging the chain around his neck, "Think you I like being weighted down with this mill stone around my neck? Gladly would I give it up! Gladly!"

When the King of the Goblins began to speak in the formally accented verse of the Aboveground, Arienne knew that he was reaching the limits of his endurance. It was a hard time for the male, he understood that even if he didn't care to think why- goblins were very good at forgetting what they were forbidden to think about. And the older generation that Jareth had ascended to were all but dead. They would not and could not say anything more than that they knew.

"Will you not tell the boy?" Arienne asked, slipping himself into the musical dialect. "It will not hinder you to be truthful for once."

"Truthful? Oh, yes. The annoying habit I had of protesting my fate when I was a child!" Jareth ranted, "Was that being truthful? Well, then, forgive me, my friend. I lost practice a long time ago."

"You speak as if you detest its outcome."

Jareth didn't choose to answer. Instead he took a deep breath, sat down and collected himself again. He leaned back in his seat, steepled fingers rising before his face. Not a barrier, but close enough.

Arienne softened his tone. "You were meant to be King. You were born to it."

"And then I was Unborn. Jra-gurgh. Isn't that what they called me? The Unborn? So close to my own name it seems fated."

"Jareth, I can only imagine..."

"I am tired, Arienne. This conversation is over. I leave for the Fairy Kingdom tomorrow to try to stop the little rodents I call my people from dying in a pointless war on the Flat Plains, and the goblins in my Castle will care for my bond mate and child. Are we clear?"

The healer's mouth thinned. "One day," he finally said, "One day you will hurt yourself and that boy by keeping your silence. And when that day comes, you will call for my aid."

"You will be dead before that day," Jareth answered brutally, "Your work here is done?"

Arienne bowed stiffly and took a bottle of green syrup from his bag. "Toby is to take that every morning before he has eaten. No dose is to be missed."

"I will leave instructions."

The two stared at each other for two seconds more than was necessary and then the goblin healer turned abruptly and left the room. The Goblin King leaned back in his chair and sighed again. The Griffith above him laid a gentle paw on his arm, its carved beak opening to cry a mournful sound of enquiry. The eagle's call... the hawk! Another form that Jareth hadn't taken for many years now. It used to be a favourite of his, back when he had been new to the powers of the Kingship.

It was as a hawk that he had kept watch over his Bog before Sir Didymus had agreed to take on the job. No one had dared disturb it, but sometimes some would go there surreptitiously to look for body parts or some of the simple pieces of jewellery that the nobles had worn at their death. Jareth had seen to it personally that no part of those bodies had come to light.

'_Jareth, are you all right?_'

He quickly apparated himself to his bedchamber, shaking his head at a pair of intense blue eyes. "Did you hear that?"

"Your thoughts? Yeah. They were a little loud and very morbid." Jareth said nothing, so Toby lowered himself back down on the mattress with a sigh. He looked up to find his lover staring out the window with a very hard expression. "Did you really kill those noblemen?"

Jareth's head swung around to look at him. The expression never changed. "Yes, I did. Why?"

"I thought maybe it was just rumour. Lying in bed, the goblins keep me company and well... they're very gossipy little things, aren't they? Did you know that Gringol, that old goblin who did the binding for us, was robbed last week? Apparently someone stole his collection of moths."

The Goblin King couldn't resist laughing. He knew the attempt was to cheer him up, and for all that it was frivolous to the things he should be thinking of, it did work. "It is just like you to think something like that ridiculous."

"Well, isn't it? I mean- moths! How many varieties can there be?"

"About a hundred and sixty-seven at last count," Jareth grinned, "But most of them are dry and brown; not in the least interesting, so I see your point."

Toby glared up at him and pouted. The pout was flicked away by the tip of a long white finger, which he then proceeded to nibble on for a while.

"It seems you are hungry."

Toby made a face and dropped the finger. "Don't mention food," he warned, "Or I will be very ill in your lap."

Jareth grimaced too and for a while they sat still, not quite sure what to say. Or rather, knowing what they had to say and not quite sure that they wanted it to be said. Jareth knew his husband had heard about the rumours of war. It would be just his luck that Toby probably knew he was making plans to leave the next morning. But he still needed to tell him.

"I know you're going away tomorrow. And I know that you've not exactly been very truthful with me. Why didn't you tell me about all this rubbish with the fairies?"

Blue eyes glared up at him, worry and concern so clearly felt. There also seemed to be an innocent belief that talking about things would help any problem. Quite charming, in Jareth's opinion. "I didn't see the point of worrying you," Jareth reasoned, "I am King; you are not. And no, don't you fly into a temper. You refused any position of power that I offered. Besides, you have to worry about other things and stress is the last thing you need."

Surprisingly enough, Toby didn't feel angry at this exclusion from certain parts of his lover's life. But there was sadness there that he wished Jareth didn't have to know of. "I don't think stress is really the excuse you should make. Look, I'm not a King. I don't know the first thing about goblins and fairies and all the rest so I'll stay out of it. And you know, I get that you don't want to share everything with me. It would be stupid if you did!"

"It would?" The Goblin King was very entertained. He might have thought the mortal to be insulted but he could feel only warm sympathy pouring out of the rather large golden body.

"Well, yeah! You're not used to answering to other people and suddenly I'm right there, a bit of a thorn in your side I guess. If you keep the running of the Kingdom to yourself, then I understand that." Toby noticed the twitch that Jareth's mouth seemed to have developed. He covered his eyes with his hand. "I've just made a complete fool of myself, haven't I?"

"No more than normal," Jareth agreed, accepting the whack to his shin with good grace, "Now, how do you feel?"

"Like a whale," came the quick retort.

Mismatched eyes looked expressively down at the bulk that Toby was stuck with for another month. But the words never came, for which Toby could only be thankful. He didn't really want to kill his husband for a misjudged remark. Especially since he was being nice to him.

"Does your back still hurt?"

The open expression suddenly became guarded. "A little," Toby allowed, "But nothing too special."

Jareth looked down skeptically at him. "You're lying," he said simply.

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are."

"Am not."

"Are too!"

Toby grinned and snuggled back into the bed. "Well, then, fine. It's agony and I'm about to die of back pain. That do you?"

A hand stroked over his stomach, barely gliding over the warm sweater that the mortal was wearing. The winter was a severe one and even though the pregnancy played havoc with his body temperature, the mortal was still cold. Jareth, of course, couldn't really be bothered one way or another.

"It moved again this morning," Toby informed him, "Kept going too! I almost tapped on my stomach and said, "Keep it down in there"."

"It's restless," Jareth agreed, "Do you know whether it's a boy or a girl?"

"No. Am I supposed to?" Toby looked panicked.

"No," Jareth soothed, "But sometimes there are feelings that the, ah, mother gets." He smiled sweetly at Toby's scowl. "An intuition, I believe."

"I," Toby snapped quellingly, "Am not a mother."

"No. No, you're really not, are you? Tell me, do you really want this child? Or are you having it because you think I need it?"

Toby carefully pushed himself up, ignoring the pull in his lower back as he arranged himself against the pillows. This was a serious question, so far as he could tell. And he had the feeling that Jareth had been meaning to ask it for a long time. "Jareth, part of my life is to have your children."

"Toby, please don't be vacuous. I have said this before- you are not here to be a walking, talking, baby producing factory."

"I know, I know. But Jareth, we made love. And I got pregnant. It's the way things go. Did I set out with the intention of having a child? No. But if we're having one, I'm happy about it. Hell, I'm excited! I can't wait for it to pop out and start bawling its head off. And not just because I'll finally be able to see my toes when it does, but... you know how everyone has this idealistic idea of having a kid look up at them and call them 'dad'?"

"No," Jareth said with a shudder.

Toby stared at him with a dropped jaw.

"If any child of mine calls me 'dad', I'll throw it in an oubliette," he growled.

The mortal shook his head and looked to the heavens for aid. "You idiot," he remarked feelingly, "And what do you want it to call you- 'father'?"

"Why not?"

"It's a little... cold."

"Not in the least," Jareth protested, "I think I'd like the respect of a proper title than some slang word for it."

Toby looked at his husband with a queer expression on his face, patting his knee in silent comfort. "It's going to be a long life," he pointed out, "Get as much rest as you can before baby makes three. Respect! Good God!"

Jareth glared at the mock-scandalized youth in his bed. "It seems you haven't learned that lesson yet either."

"Why? Are you doing to teach me a lesson for being disrespectful?" Toby was almost cracking up with the hilarity of it all.

Jareth simply quirked an eyebrow. "I will if you ask me nicely enough," he offered, a lewd smile lighting his eyes.

Toby sobered instantly. "Arienne warned us not to have sex any more, Jareth. That trick you pulled with the chains and the word games was too much. I was out of it for a week."

"Mmm... But I enjoyed it so very much," the Goblin King growled, licking over the golden neck.

Toby arched slightly and then winced. Jareth looked up as he felt the pain. "Back?"

"Back," Toby agreed, "Um, can I lie down now? And call Kyfrem? I don't trust you."

Jareth sighed. "I'll call Kyfrem," he promised, "Now, down!"

The Goblin King got up and made for the door, only to hear his name called in a rather timid way. He turned around.

"You know, right? That I appreciate what you did?"

"I'm afraid I don't follow you."

"That game of yours. You wanted me to stop hiding. That's why you waited for morning. That's why you forced me to say it. You wanted me to admit the whole stupidity, didn't you?"

Ah! Jareth had been wondering when this conversation would come up. He went back and let himself be pulled down and kissed. He opened his mouth and let Toby's tongue slide into his mouth. When they broke away, he was smiling a little with smug satisfaction. "That," he murmured, "Was exactly why I did it."

"You were pretty cruel that day. I hate those chains, Jareth. I can't stand being restrained and you know it!"

"I hate restraints too, my elf. And I hate those chains just as much as you hate me touching you with black gloves on my hands. But sometimes hate is the last push you need to send you spiraling into release. Strong emotions are passionate and physical. Hate, love, lust... they're all the same, really."

"So, let me get this straight, you're telling me that you wore those chains?" Toby looked shocked, his hands still cupping Jareth's face between them.

Jareth stiffened, angered with himself for giving so much away. "Yes," he said carefully, "Once. A long time ago. And I have never worn them since."

"But you've used them since, right?" Toby turned that thought over in his head. He was young, but he wasn't stupid. And he had a better understanding of Jareth than he admitted to. "Jareth, were you dealing with some of your own fears that day?"

"Not at all. I just don't like being restrained."

It was a lie and they both knew it.

So Toby persisted and asked, "Why?"

"I'm not ready," Jareth said simply.

"I see. Anything I can do to help?"

"Not really, my elf. I hear Kyfrem." Jareth smiled and nodded, gently removing himself from Toby's grasp to walk to the door and call for Kyfrem.

Toby watched the straight back retreat. It seemed that this always happened- Jareth retreated when he really wanted to be healed. Why? Why would someone proud of their strength and power retreat at the first sign of healing a weakness? Toby sighed. It seemed that whatever it was, he was going to have to help out. He didn't trust Jareth with a lot of things, and telling him the whole truth was one of them. So he would try to figure it out himself and he hoped he could do it soon, because the smile on that face had been touched with a grey sadness that he had a very bad feeling about.


	18. Nowhere to Run

Author's Note: This is a short chapter, and probably not as emotive as the others, but I think it works well as a return to the original writing structure of the story.

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"Where is he? Toby. Look up, luv, look up."

Jareth?

Toby managed to open his eyes, just enough to squint up at that worried face before snapping them shut again. Jareth. It had to be. Unless it was just another trick? He didn't think he could stand to see those dark eyes one more time. He couldn't!

"How bad is it?"

Jareth's voice. Toby screwed his eyes up even tighter, huddling closer to himself as much as he could. Arienne's hands were on his abdomen, carefully checking the state of his child. Where was his Goblin King? Why was Jareth not here?

"... just found him... so far nothing but bruises."

"Nothing? Is this nothing?" Soft hands so like Jareth's were on his shoulders, sliding down to touch... No!

Toby pulled away and whimpered, his hands over his face as if trying to shut out an image or a vision. It couldn't be Jareth; it just couldn't! All day He had done that- taunting him and forcing him and then, just when Toby had thought it was over, the vision had changed. And it had been Jareth... touching him. Only those dark eyes that burned with hate remained of the shadow that haunted him. This was all another trick. Jareth was gone. Jareth had left.

"Toby, please. Open your eyes."

"Not here. You're not real."

"I am, my elf. Open your eyes. I'm right here."

"Dark eyes..."

Arienne shrugged his shoulders when Jareth looked helplessly to him. "Who has dark eyes, my elf?"

"You."

Jareth looked taken-aback. His lover was dishevelled and white as a sheet, trembling in their bed, bundled into what seemed to be a cocoon of warm clothing that didn't seem to make any difference to his shock-icy skin. The secret compartment above their bed was open and the chains attached to his lover's wrists. A tattered shirt was bundled into a corner. The entire scene looked like something from a nightmare.

"Look at me," he insisted.

Toby hid his face further in his hands, stiffening when someone tugged his hands off his face.

"Look at me."

He shook his head vigorously, fighting to awaken, to bring himself out of this trance. He could feel the long fingers stroke down his face and he hated them for feeling so familiar. Something was pushing gently at his mind and he felt the sting as he refused it entry.

"Toby."

He opened his eyes.

One blue eye, one brown eye and both were looking down at him in frustration. Frustration? No one but Jareth would be frustrated at a time like this. Or harassed. "Jareth?"

Arms went around him, pulling him into the softest of hugs. Really they were just holding him up, lifting his back off the bed while supporting his spine. Pine and smoke and God, but that smell was like heaven. The thin lips parted to say something, the breath warm against his cheek. "What happened?"

Toby flung his arms around his husband's neck and clung tight, pulling him down as the fright finally hit him. Ever since he'd been left alone he'd gone through the proceedings with an icy film of shock distorting everything, praying silently not to break down before he was safe, terrified that his dark shadow would return to see just how much he had hurt him.

"Ssh! It's all right, my elf. You're safe."

"Hurts."

"I know." Jareth was just about ready to tear his hair out in fistfuls. How that bastard had got back into the Castle was beyond him! He'd set up wards and guards, trying to protect his elf with all the power at his disposal. But in one day- one single day- Toby had been attacked again.

"I called for you," the mortal whispered, "He put something on me- a necklace," he touched the cold metal that still throbbed against his skin, "I couldn't work magic. I couldn't do anything. I tried to call you."

The half-goblin motioned to Arienne to get the offending jewellery off. The healer handled it with care and then examined it, letting his senses explore the extent of the necklace's important. The goblin nodded his head at Jareth's enquiring look. "It blocked the magical energy and stilled his own," Arienne sighed, handing it to Jareth to look at, "Your Majesty, I need to examine the damage. Toby, could you lie down, please?"

Jareth said nothing to that, but he laid his lover back down and laid one soothing hand on his arm as the mortal turned on his side. "I'm right here," he promised. There were welts on his lover's back and Jareth didn't want to stare because he knew what he would do if he dwelt on them enough. Long welts... like nails were delicately scratched over and over again against the pale-honey skin... Jareth moved his tightening grip to Toby's hand instead, seeing the tremble in those fingertips.

Toby grasped his hand and squeezed. He watched as Jareth's gaze turned to the pretty necklace in his hand. It seemed innocent enough, being nothing more than a thin gold chain with a pendant in the shape of a tulip.

But then Toby didn't know what the significance of the tulip was. Jareth knew. And he gathered all his rage and power in the fingers of one hand to crush the delicate stone with the force.

Toby gasped lightly, stunned by such a reaction. With a rush he opened the link between them once more, trying to understand whether Jareth was angry with him. Had he done something wrong? But all he felt was reassuring frenzy. It was the kind of hate that, had it been directed at him, would have chilled him to the bone. But hearing the thoughts of revenge in the Goblin King's head gave him a reason to ignore the quick fingers that were tending to his hurts.

"They will pay," the Goblin King swore, throwing the fragments lightly to the floor. He would say nothing more until Toby was asleep, sent there faster with an herbal draught. He would only expand on that theme when the door to the bedchamber was firmly shut and Arienne raised a questioning eyebrow. "The stone, the heart of the block, was set in a tulip. I believe it is common knowledge that the standard of the Fairy Kingdom is a tulip. It was a fairy; a fairy did this."

Arienne stood by in silence as the half-goblin put his fist through a painting and smashed a vase. He only hoped that the noise wouldn't wake his patient because the boy needed to get as much rest as was possible. Besides which, he was waiting to give Jareth the bad news about the pregnancy.

The Goblin King stood glaring at nothing as he channeled his energies and earthed them. He'd been causing far too much damage in the land as it was; another earthquake and people would start questioning his sanity. His fixed his eyes on the old goblin standing against the wall and remembered another vital point- "The child!"

"Is fine," Arienne soothed, "For now. Your Majesty, I have always said that the pregnancy would be a difficult one, did I not? I'm afraid this is not going to do him any good. When I made my original calculations, I miscalculated it as a normal pregnancy."

"And you just remembered that it is not? By all that's pure, he's a man! Pregnancies are not going to be normal for him!"

"I meant his mortality," Arienne disagreed, "He is mortal. He is injured, and in shock. I don't like such a combination. The child is healthy, but Toby is not. I think the birth will be very hard on him now."

Jareth opened his mouth to say something, and truly he meant to question Arienne further on whatever it was that the healer feared, but a goblin tiptoed in and announced that the Fairy Ambassador was awaiting the King in his study.

"Go," Arienne told him, "I'll wait here for the boy."

"Archer can wait," Jareth dismissed.

"Not from the little I hear, Jareth. And you did left abruptly. The Fairy Queen should be told why."

Jareth snorted. "Oh, I will tell her," he said darkly.

Arienne sighed and stroked his chin in thought, eying the taunt figure so much taller than he was. It was hard not to talk. The subject just lay there- right there in front of them- and Jareth steadfastly refused to listen. The healer knew what would happen if he opened his mouth at the wrong moment. But enough was enough. This was the third time! And at the most crucial moment! Both were too fragile to deal with earth-shattering loss just yet.

"What, Arienne?"

The goblin wanted to say that he was thinking of the little tow-headed half-fairy that had bitten his own hand rather than cry in pain. He wanted to say that he understood. But Jareth would kill rather than hear that so he only shrugged and said, "You should be proud of your mate. He got up, dressed, and called for the servants. He gave orders to have me brought and have you contacted. No one but I knows why. He was brave."

The smallest glimmer of a smile stroked that thin mouth.

"He will sleep for the rest of the day. If he wakes, you will know it." Arienne gestured to the door. "Go on, Your Majesty. You are needed elsewhere."

The Goblin King. Jareth threw up his hands in defeat and took the hint. "Wait here," he commanded, "There are guards outside the door and two more in the grounds below. But I want you here! Tell no one anything until I sort this business out properly."

It took nothing more than a moment to appear in his rooms. And on appearing, he noticed that his cousin was not looking very comfortable. What was worse, his cousin was holding an official-looking document that bore the Queen's official seal. Jareth didn't trust anything that Amarild had delivered to him. Archer always brought the news himself, using his own words and explanations. Amarild never sent anything except things that needed to be signed or authenticated.

"What is that?"

Archer looked down at the rolled parchment and put it behind his back. "Do not accept it," he advised, "Refuse to open it and tell me to return it to my Queen. I don't know what you said to her, but make peace with Amarild, my dear. This is not the time for war."

Jareth wordlessly held out his hand. Honestly! What was that human saying- it never rained but it poured? Bad enough he'd had to put up with Amarild's snide remarks all morning without Archer to cushion the blow. Amarild had arranged that, he was sure, she was never quite sure of Archer's loyalties, stupid cow.

He took the parchment with a rude snatch and opened it, breaking the seal with an impatient hand and derisive sneer. Archer had expected that. He waited with bated breath, knowing what was in it and knowing how Jareth would react. But maybe he would take an uncharacteristic stance on this? Maybe he wouldn't lose his temper? He looked harassed and frustrated; he might be concerned with other things and he might not… Whatever Jareth read within in made him tear it up into little pieces and fling it out the window.

"Jareth, I apologize for her," Archer attempted.

"Do you? 'An abomination can only spawn abominable offspring'- do you consider that forgivable?" The Goblin King's voice was so cold that Archer could be excused a grimace at his back.

"It is ignorance, cousin."

The half-goblin never looked up from the letter he was scribbling. "She calls me an abomination. She calls my child an abomination. I have held my tongue for long enough, Archer, and for what? To be insulted by a mere child who was in short dresses when I was a King?"

"Jareth, there is so much more at stake."

"Yes, there is. And Amarild will soon find that playing against me is not something to take lightly. Give her this letter." Archer wondered what was in it and Jareth saw that look. "Read it if you like."

The Fairy Lord paled as his eyes scanned the script on the page, pointed and looped with an extravagant hand. The signature at the bottom was marked so furiously into the parchment that the pen had bitten right through the thick paper. "Jareth, I..."

A dark brow rose dangerously. "You will take that letter and you will hand it to her. If she turns my consort's rapist over to me within forty-eight hours and publicly cedes her throne to her legal heir, war might be averted. But I think she won't. And I no longer care for peace."

"You will have war with this, Jareth. I know this is hard but you can't do this."

"I can't? I was under the impression that I could. Whenever I wanted. For whatever I wanted."

"A hundred to die for one person's pain isn't right."

"And yet hurting one person just to save a hundred indifferent lives isn't right either."

Archer bowed, stiffly and formally, as a Lord of one country would bow to the King of another. "Your letter will be delivered." He turned to leave.

"Archer, you will not come here again."

He didn't turn, but stopped and tilted his head to listen. "Am I no more welcome here?"

"There is no welcome for a fairy in the Goblin Kingdom," Jareth pointed out, "You are advised to stay away."

"Yet you are half-faerie, cousin. You only fight your mother's people." Archer was another step closer to the wall, the rolled letter in his fist, and the waxy seal of the Goblin King still warm.

"You forget." Archer could almost see the bitter smile on the Goblin King's face. "I have no mother. An unborn never does. Leave now. May the Gods protect you when war is officially declared."


	19. Arrakhdeen

Author's Note: IT'S HERE; IT'S HERE! THE HEIR TO THE GOBLIN KINGDOM HAS ARRIVED! I'm more excited than anyone else, I think.

Author's Note 2: Someone mentioned feeling as if they'd missed something. In a way, you have. Both Toby and Jareth have a hell of a lot of seperate problems that they have to deal with besides war and babies. You know what Toby's problem is; you don't know about Jareth's. And that's because I don't plan to tell anyone about it until the time is right. Sorry! But that's the way the fic goes.

Author's Note 3: There are twenty-six hours in an Underground day.

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"Jareth, I can't do this."

"You must."

"It hurts; it really fucking hurts!"

"Lie back, my elf; relax. Arienne will be here soon." Jareth petted the sweat-slicked brow soothingly, more than a little pale as Toby grit his teeth through another contraction.

The child was early; Toby wasn't due for another six days. Luckily Arienne had warned them both to expect it. Unfortunately, Arienne had also implicitly warned Toby not to start pushing until the birth canal had formed. Jareth was not certain that he quite liked that. In his opinion, the sooner it came out the better for everyone involved.

The entire Castle was on the alert and about two dozen goblins stood waiting in corridors and nearby rooms, with blankets and pillows and clothes and sheets. The kitchen hobs were piled with kettles filled with water in various stages of boiling. The Goblin City itself was abuzz with the news. And the contractions had only started an hour ago!

Goblins of all ages and shapes raced from one store to the next, from one house to the next, shouting and generally spreading the news so loudly that even if someone hadn't known before, they and their neighbours soon did.

"The heir," the cobbler yelled, battering on the grocer's door as if expecting to see a child toddle down the street behind him, "It's coming!"

"What is?"

"The babe!"

"What babe?"

"The babe who's gonna rule when His Majesty kicks the bucket, fatty!"

Which, naturally, meant that a miniature gang riot was starting in the streets. Considering that the City was rapidly filling with goblins that were retreating from the farthest villages near the border shared by the Fairy Kingdom, the goblins were making a lot of noise. The garbage manager even ran into the scrap heap beyond the gates to tell the garbage collectors about the imminent arrival of the royal child.

A fierey pricked up its long ears and then pulled them off and stuck them higher up in the air to better hear the commotion. Once the words were heard- clearly, thanks to an ability to tune into the right sound waves by reaching impressive distances into the atmosphere- the rotund little creature skittered off up into the trees to tell its friends and everything else that cared to listen.

Toby wished very much that everyone would shut up and go away so that he could concentrate on not biting through his tongue. His skin began to redden with exertion as he rode out the long agonizing minutes. It scared him witless to have to go through this without knowing what exactly was going on. He almost kissed Arienne in delight as seeing him enter the large double doors. Jareth was a skilled enough healer in his own way, but not when it came to emergency C-sections. And the Goblin King was beginning to grimace every time Toby dragged at his hand as his body spasmed- not a good thing if that hand was the one cutting him open.

"Here," Toby panted, pushing the hand away when he was done with it, "Keep that. We'll need it later."

Arienne shared a look with the Goblin King and was pleasantly surprised to see him look so focused. He was surprised to just see him sit there, interacting and supporting and remarkably sober. With all the tensions, he had expected Jareth to start cracking under the pressure. But the half-goblin was astonishingly calm, taking the disagreeable play of the birthing process in his stride and seemingly willing to wait patiently for the final act. And that, the healer knew from experience, was usually not the case for first-time fathers of any general description.

And the mother... well, there was no mother. But the male on the bed was doing fine. Far from sending him into a downward spiral of moody depressions, the recent attack and rape seemed to have stiffened Toby's spine. There was a newly broken-in determination to him; stronger and more powerful even than the strength he'd had before. And Arienne was suitably impressed.

"How- how long?"

Arienne glanced up to the blue eyes blinking at him. "From what I can tell, the birth canal takes about six hours to form."

That did it.

"SIX HOURS?"

Jareth winced.

"I AM NOT WAITING IN THIS BED FOR SIX HOURS!"

The fruit in the Goblin City suddenly began to explode, spraying juice around and terrorizing everyone in the near vicinity with vicious seed-shooting. Jareth felt the power leapfrog around the land and hurriedly reigned it in, shutting his eyes for a moment to put restraints onto their shared power base.

"I am afraid you have to," Arienne pointed out, "It takes longer, but you will heal quicker if the birthing is natural."

"Screw healing, I want it out now!" Toby gave way to a suddenly more painful bout of contractions. Everyone in the room held their breath for the few moments that his mouth fell open in a silent cry. They sighed with relief when he slumped back.

"I'm afraid that is impossible. The magic doing all of this works in its own good time. It can't be rushed."

Toby licked his lips and shifted his head on the pillow. "Six hours is too long," he mumbled tiredly.

"Not waiting six hours puts your child's health at serious risk."

Toby stared at the ceiling and then shut his eyes with a groan.

"Believe me, this is the only way," Arienne sympathized.

"It really isn't that long," Jareth soothed.

The truth was that Jareth had his doubts too. Arienne wasn't even sure that Toby's body would react for this final stage as an immortal's would. Immortals were bred with an unconscious ability to absorb magic and adjust to it. Mortals were not. And there was rather a lot that depended on magic at this point of time. But even leaving aside birth canals and feeding capabilities, Jareth had been bluntly told that Toby's hips were probably too narrow for the child anyway. And his back was only holding up because Arienne had poured a liberal dose of something de-sensitizing down his throat as soon as he'd entered.

"Yeah, well, you try it!"

Jareth smothered a grin and obligingly gave his hand back to be squeezed. At least Toby was still spitting fire! The contractions were picking up and he poured every drop of his confidence into his husband, hoping it would help to stand the pain.

Four hours later, Toby was cursing everything in sight as the contractions came far too close for anyone's liking. "How... much more?"

Arienne looked down under the sheet covering his legs and shook his head sympathetically. "Not yet. Wait a little longer. You should probably feel it happening."

"Thank God," Toby wheezed sarcastically, "When... my dick decides... to fall off... I'll let you know. Okay?"

"Fine," Arienne smiled, not in the least put out. He'd been in cases when the women had thrown whatever came to hand at him. Sarcastic remarks were strangely sedate. Of course, there were the other births were the babies were delivered in record time, nothing went wrong and the women were perfectly modulated throughout, but one couldn't have everything. "Did you know the Lady Frielda took over fourteen hours to have her child?"

"Who?" Toby gasped.

Jareth cleared his throat warningly and glared at the serene healer. "That," he snapped quellingly, "Was not my fault."

Toby looked from one to the other in confusion, breathing deeply to calm his nerves and get his breath back. He jerked his head in a questioning kind of way and Jareth shrugged- "My mother," he replied.

"If this child takes anywhere near fourteen hours, you will never touch me again," Toby warned.

"Scout's honour," the Goblin King promised, hoping that it wouldn't even if he had to cut the child out himself.

"You- ah! God!- were never... a scout- shit!"

"Breathe," Arienne instructed severely, "Talk later; plenty of time to talk after the birth. For now, save your strength."

Toby groaned tragically and threw an arm over his eyes, shutting them for a few moments' respite as his skin itched and his hair and shirt stuck to him irritatingly. A low hum of some kind was rattling around in his gut, forcing him to give a half-hearted wriggle.

Another hour passed. Arienne shared a worried look with the Goblin King as he shook his head again. "A while more," he cautioned.

After the tenth hour of the pregnancy, Toby was approaching manic hysteria. "GET IT OUT OF ME!" he shouted.

The Goblin King sighed and nodded. "Can we do that?" he asked, "I know the womb is protected in case of emergencies and that a premature cut could damage that and cause harm." Toby looked up to the both of them in a near panic. "But that should have faded by now." Toby relaxed.

"It should," the healer agreed, "But I am not sure of that. If we could wait a few minutes more."

The few minutes were interrupted when Toby suddenly said, "Crap!"

"Toby, would you please..."

"No, the- the thingie... ow! It hurts!"

The sheet was lifted and Arienne poked his head under. Toby was beginning to feel like a one-dollar sideshow. He sourly promised himself that he'd sell tickets next time, and then almost had a heart attack because he'd just indirectly agreed to have a 'next time'.

"Jareth," he called desperately.

Jareth took his proffered hand and rubbed comfortingly. Toby controlled himself from saying that it wasn't his hand that was hurting.

"Jareth, I need you to promise me something."

Dark brows pulled slightly into a frown. "Toby, this isn't really..."

"PROMISE OR THIS KID AIN'T COMING OUT!"

The Goblin King almost fell off his chair. Dazed and deafened, he nodded and clutched the thin golden hand like a lifeline. "Anything," he murmured hurriedly.

"Better," the mortal grunted, "I need you to tell me what's going on... down there." He nodded down to himself.

Jareth took a deep breath, took a look and came back, looking a little green and yet intrigued. "You do not want me to tell you," he advised.

Toby gave up. He pulled himself up slightly, propped his feet firmly on the bed and took deep, determined breathes. "Say when," he growled hoarsely.

Jareth wanted so badly to laugh and cry and generally go sit in his throne room and give way to hysterics. It was like a farce, watching everything go wrong or muddled or somhow haywire. And he still had a war to plan.

'_Think of that later_,' Toby hissed mentally, '_Or you can sleep on the floor for the next three years._'

He hastily composed his thoughts.

Arienne gave the muffled command to start pushing and Jareth suddenly realized that in many ways the labour was only starting. He pulled off his coat, rolled up the poet sleeves and set about trying to stay out of everyone's way while offering support. He didn't even know why he was there. Certainly it wasn't customary in his society for the husband to stay while the wife gave birth, but Karen had insisted that it would be good for the both of them and he had acquiesced for Toby's sake. But regardless of whose fault it was for his presence, he recklessly decided that he would see it through. After all, how many other males could boast of seeing the horribly nightmarish birth of their children?

For twenty minutes nothing seemed to be happening. Arienne shouted at Toby to push. Toby shouted back that he was. Someone or other would tell Toby to breath and he would swear roundly at them with a choice of words in English and the goblin tongue that Jareth hadn't known he possessed. Arienne called for warm water and cloths, and for something to wrap the child in when it was out. A quiet goblin nurse was sent into the room with the various requested items, staring intently the other way when the mortal wrenched at her King's hands and moaned with the effort.

"Good," Arienne suddenly cried, "I can see the head." He disappeared under the sheet and Toby felt a touch on his thigh. "Just a little more," floated out from those mysterious recesses.

The mortal was tired, in agony and felt like something horribly skewer-like was ripping him apart from his groin to his stomach. Though why his stomach should be suffering he couldn't have said. He grabbed Jareth's hand with both of his, leaned back and bore down so hard that he actually cried out in fright because the pain was too much and too quick to even comprehend all at once.

Jareth was much more able to comprehend it and he gripped back just as hard. He stared in fascination as the sheet twitched and fluttered for a moment and then Arienne emerged. The smell of blood and sweat was hanging in the air and the wriggling little thing in the goblin's large hands was streaked with blood and mucus.

He watched enraptured as a little foot kicked weakly out over the healer's arm. He was so intent that he missed the exchange of the child to the discreet goblin nurse who stood in the corner ready to care for the baby and only remembered what else was happening when he heard Arienne tell his husband to push a few more times.

Toby was drained, but obeyed valiantly with a few weak pushes and then collapsed, panting and gasping and whining on the bed. He didn't notice the general hustle and bustle around him. The world was so dark at that point, with little white dots flicking in and out of his line of vision. He chased them dreamily, a sharp aching between his legs the only reminder of what had just happened. But there was an enormous sense of release hanging around him, of achievement even though his mind refused to put words to that thought.

He wanted to ask whether the child was safe and healthy, whether it was a girl or a boy. But he didn't have the strength left to open his eyes. He nodded vaguely to himself and anyone who happened to be watching and drifted into a kind of aware sleep. Gradually the noises and movements around him faded away into nothingness.

Jareth waited only to see that nod and the complete relaxation take over the ruffled golden body before taking off for the table in the corner of his room.

The goblin nurse looked up and smiled a large smile at him. "A girl," she said happily, "You has a nice little girl. Very pretty, no?"

He looked at the red, wrinkled little face and the long body and the scraggy thatch of blond hair. The eyes were puffy and she was whining and whimpering, trying to turn this way and that and obviously not managing it. "She is beautiful," he sighed, "Very pretty indeed."

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Toby drifted in and out of sleep for a good five hours after that. He awoke for a few moments when a cold, wet towel was placed soothingly between his legs, and then when Kyfrem sponged the grime and gore off of him to help him rest easier. But most of it was masked with a dream-like quality that made it seem unreal in his memory ever after.

He woke up finally somewhere around seven in the evening, to find the sky a riot of orange and purple, and Jareth at the open window with his back to him.

"Jareth?"

The word was whispered so softly that Toby would have forgiven his husband for not hearing it. He could himself hear the sounds of shouting and singing as the news traveled around that a healthy baby had been born to the royal couple. The Heir. His child. Jareth turned and smiled with relief to see him awake, coming to sit on the bed beside him with a pile of soft grey blankets in his arms.

"My child?" Toby made to sit up and found that it took a while for his sluggish muscles to respond to him. Jareth eased an arm around his back and helped him.

"Are you all right?" the Goblin King asked in concern. He waited for the answering nod and checked to see whether his lover was being truthful before offering the bundle up. "Your daughter, my elf."

Toby took the child and stared down at her. Her tiny nose looked like she could smell something she wished she didn't have to. And her eyes looked like she was trying not to look at this new and strange world around her. But there was something so fragile about her and she fit against him as if she had been made for him to hold.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Jareth demanded, as proud as a peacock with two tails. "Perfect features. She has blue eyes."

"Like mine?"

"I do not know yet. I had blue eyes too, once." The words were wistful and the voice was soft. "She has blond hair too."

Toby watched the slender forefinger stroke carefully over the blond fuzz. It was hard to tell whether it would be his bright gold or Jareth's moon-like tint. But she was perfect. "She is beautiful," he agreed.

They both watched her for a while, until Toby thought of something else. "You know, all those names we've been thinking up- they suddenly don't fit any more. She doesn't seem like an Alice or a Claire or a Fiona. There's so much more to her than just... the Aboveground." He couldn't explain himself but felt Jareth's silent comprehension, relaxing against a strong shoulder and rocking his little daughter.

"There is a name..." Dual-coloured eyes looked ruefully down at Toby's enquiring gaze. "I'm afraid it might sound a little silly."

Toby glared. "Unless it's Coco, as in the clown, I would never call a suggestion of yours silly. What is it? Not Farrah!"

Jareth glared right back. "I am not naming my daughter after a past lover."

"Glad to hear. Now, what is it?"

"Arrakhdeen."

Toby blinked. "Did you cough," he asked anxiously, "Or was that the name?"

Jareth rolled his eyes skyward. "Arrakhdeen is a word in native tongue. It means 'Dusk'."

"Arak-din," Toby attempted, "Somehow that sounded wrong."

"It was," Jareth laughed, "You must roll the 'r' and draw out the last syllable. And the 'k' is harsher, from your throat not your tongue."

"Arrakh-din... uh, -deen. Oh bugger! Dusk. I suppose we couldn't just name her that, could we?"

"Dusk? No. But there is hope: as a name, the word smoothes out to 'Arradine'; how would that sound?"

"Arradine." Toby rolled it off his tongue, tasting it in his mouth. The baby in his arms gave a squeak. "Arradine. I like that. Dusk. But why dusk?"

Jareth gave a sudden mischievous smirk. "In Underground belief, we each come from different paths of time. You descend from the sun, I from the moon. But we meet twice everyday and merge- at dawn and dusk. At dawn, the sun takes the night. At dusk..."

Toby blushed. "I get it, I get it. So it's symbolic of how this little thing came to be. Cute. Since when have you been a romantic?"

"A romantic?" Jareth raised an eyebrow. "I assure you it is no such thing. I read."

"And sing. And paint. And write." Toby smiled up into his husband's face, wanting to reach up and kiss him but not daring to move. "And steal children and annoy people and declare war and do all sorts of manly things. Such a contradiction in stereotypes!"

Jareth leaned down and kissed him, running an insistent tongue against the lower lip for entrance. Toby obliged him and he flicked inside, seeking heat and warmth and love. His lover moaned into the kiss and pressed against him.

The sound of a disgruntled baby broke them apart. Looking down at the tiny face, Toby was enchanted to see the hint of a tiny pout. She was going to be exactly like her father, he decided triumphantly, she was going to have the most willful personality in the world.

"I think she's hungry," Jareth remarked, touching her cheek.

Toby looked at the baby to his husband to the baby and then at himself. "I, uh, think you should get Arienne. I'm not quite sure how to do this."

Jareth smirked and rose with a short, extravagant bow. "I go to do your bidding, my Lord," he chuckled. Straightening, he wiped the mirth from his eyes and let Toby see the very real emotions there.

Toby watched him go and tried to calculate his time. War was declared. The Underground was in chaos. But Jareth was hurting and Toby couldn't understand why. But he would find out; Toby made that promise to his little daughter. He would find out.


	20. Living in Daylight

Author's Note: This finishes off the last chapter in this segment. The sequel should be arriving soon enough, so look out for that. Well, if you're interested.

Author's Note 2: I really do need to thank all my beautiful, wonderful, supportive reviewers who take the time to tell me whether my stuff is total crap or not. Most of you have been kind enough to say that you like it. For that, I'm grateful. Hope this chapter is as good as you might want it to be.

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Kyfrem looked nervously around the room. His Lordship had left specific instructions but he still wasn't quite sure that this should be done. Besides, he disapproved of the whole plan on point. It just wasn't seemly!

Jamelia had agreed. Her opinion tended to be guarded at the best of times, even with her old friend, and simply because a tow-headed little half-goblin had once had the habit of coming gravely into her kitchen for chocolate and a chat. And she still jealously protected the King's interests with a rather formidable aplomb. But she had unbent enough to give her opinion and she agreed- it wasn't seemly.

"Well, nothing more to do," he muttered to himself, "Candles, sheets... everything done."

He left hurriedly after that. The goblin valet had no intention of being caught in that bedroom when the volcano erupted. He had barely exited the room when the King strode towards the door. Kyfrem ran.

Jareth blinked at the sight of Toby's valet taking off in the opposite direction in sheer terror. Not that he cared one way or another, but it was mildly off-putting to be treated like an oncoming monster when he'd kept his hands to himself for quite a few days. Eventually he shrugged and entered his suite.

The front room was a type of sitting room combined with a reading room; generally being a place where the Goblin King, and now his consort, could relax without having to lie in bed. Lately, it was littered with a crib in the corner and a few garishly coloured trinkets to amuse the newest addition to their lives.

And Thank the Gods, Arradine was with her daddy somewhere! The girl had the nasty habit of crying most of the night, thereby making her father very frustrated with the lack of sleep.One of them would, naturally, have to go see to her. The first few times Jareth was always happy to get up. After that, he refused. Toby had been fighting the idea of help. He'd pointed out that his mum had done it without help and she'd had to cook and clean on her own while she was at it. It was only with the fast approaching separation that the mortal would consider allowing a nurse anywhere near his baby.

Jareth sighed and proceeded onwards. He loved his daughter with a vengeance that had surprised even himself, but he still found it disconcerting to have to schedule his time around two other people. It annoyed him greatly not having the freedom to do as he liked when he liked, and he was morbidly afraid that Toby was beginning to understand that.

'_Where are you_,' he sent mentally, testing their connection to see whether they really could hear the other's thoughts over longer distances.

'_Shit! Are you there, already? What time is it?'_

'_We have to be there soon.'_

'_Jareth, I told you we needed to talk first.'_

'_I hate to point this out, but I am at the appointed venue. You are not. You are, in fact, throwing the whole schedule off.'_

'_Hold on, then. I'm almost there.' _There was a brief pause. '_You still there? Sorry, talking to the nurse. This will take another minute, I think.'_

Jareth sighed and thought despairingly of this new swamp of maternal feeling for the whole world. Toby had something up his sleeve, of that, the Goblin King was sure. The little fire-blond was worried about him. Jareth saw that. And he wished that there was a way he could put those worries to rest but Toby didn't seem to be satisfied with anything less than a full explanation. Jareth wasn't about to give that. Thinking about his problem, the half-goblin decided to save time by changing his clothing for the formal dinner while he waited.

Too late, Toby seemed to realize what he was doing, and exploded into his mind with- '_Don't go to the bedroom!'_

Jareth stared at the bedroom in a loss. '_What the hell?_'

'_I didn't want you to see that just yet. It's part of what I wanted to talk about.'_

'_You needed to talk about converting our bedroom into a brothel?'_

'_It's not a brothel.'_

'_It looks like a brothel.'_

'_The fact that you're such an expert on what brothels look like scares me. Look, wait there. I'm just going to hand Arra over and then we can get started.'_

'_I'm beginning to wonder what kind of conversation you had in mind,'_ Jareth ruminated.

He could clearly feel Toby's mind give a little skip in nervous anticipation. '_Do you like it?_'

'_It's... full of candles,_' he replied, still in a daze.

'_It's meant to be! Okay, come out. We need to have that talk now._'

'_Toby, we don't have the time..._'

He heard the door to the suite open and he went back out, looking sympathetic and surprised and very regretful. Toby was speaking to the goblin nurse who was to help care for Arradine, handing her over with a bright smile before shutting the door. That done, he leaned against it and stared long and hard at his husband. "We are going to have this talk."

"Toby, we have all the time in the world to talk when this evening is over," Jareth stressed.

"No, we don't. You're leaving soon and I'm getting a little sick and tired of beating around this very large bush."

"There is no bush. If this is about those fantastical theories of yours concerning me, I assure you that you are making too big a deal out of this. There's no secret here. There's nothing to worry about." Jareth could practically hear those worries in his head. "My elf, I am fine. This whole family is fine. Can we just believe that and change for dinner?"

"Have you finished protesting?" Toby asked quietly.

Jareth folded his arms and tried to convey his regret with his eyes and thoughts. It didn't work. Toby simply raised an eyebrow and proceeded to ignore it.

"You know," the mortal said, "I've spent almost a year as your husband; eleven months next week, in fact. And you're leaving me in two days to go fight some stupid war with the fairies. Not that I grudge you, but it's just the way it is."

Jareth didn't like this calm reason- "Toby, there's nothing..."

"Wait! Let me finish. Do you realize that in those eleven months, the first time you gave me a blowjob was when I was seven months pregnant? I haven't even touched you for more than a few seconds at a time. This marriage seems a little unbalanced, don't you think?"

Jareth's jaw dropped. That was why the candles were there, to entice him into a blowjob? Well, that was unexpected! For a brief moment he wondered whether Toby was proposing to pleasure him or asking to be pleasured himself. He shook his head determinedly. "We have to go. They expect us in an hour."

"No, they don't. I told Gringol and your- what was his name- General Gatshill that we'd be late... very late! So we have a little time on our hands."

The Goblin King drew himself up to his full height and stalked menacingly to his smaller lover. Toby didn't cower, but then Jareth didn't expect him to. "Are you telling me," the half-goblin demanded, "That you deliberately did something like this without my permission?"

"Yes," Toby said simply.

"Why?" Jareth demanded, "And you may forget about whatever it was you had in mind; we are attending it in an hour."

Surprisingly enough, whatever Jareth was expecting Toby to do, didn't happen. There was no pout and no instant cry or plea to listen. All Toby did, was let his triumph flow over the both of them and smile. It was a dangerous smile at all events, seemingly guileless and innocent with those devilish blue eyes glittering with amusement.

"We certainly could attend in an hour," Toby agreed, walking to his husband and laying a hand on his arm, "But don't you think it would hurt you to be taken so fast?"

Jareth's reaction was exactly what Toby had expected of him- he pulled away and switched off, staring his cold disavowal. The floods of shock and anger and hope and denial were almost overwhelming, but the mortal didn't seem to be put off by them. He moved closer still.

"I knew you wouldn't talk to me. Fucking seems to be how you communicate. And I did say I would help you,"Toby reminded his lover softly.

"Not like this," Jareth spat, "I never had this in mind. And I do not think I care for the idea."

'_You will... when it's happening and you can't stop yourself from wanting more._'

'_Don't do this to me, my elf. Please don't ask me for this._' "And what makes you think I would let it progress that far?"

'_You need it now, Jareth. Can't you see that?_' "I may have no experience, but you're far too attracted to me for your own good. Can't you just see it- the two of us on the bed, passion and chaos combining around us like it always does? But this time you'd be the one calling out, the one asking for more, the one who needs to submit so badly that you're willing to feel pain to find ecstasy."

Jareth was well aware that he was being subtly maneuvered towards the bedchamber. He let himself be forced beyond it, watching with hooded eyes while Toby locked the door behind his back. Both knew that he could apparate to any part of the Kingdom or Aboveground that he wanted. They knew that, were Toby any other male, the Goblin King might have killed his prospective suitor without a second thought. But both also knew that no matter how hard Jareth struggled, he wasn't going to win this eventually.

"Undress and lie down," Toby instructed, preparing to watch his husband strip without lifting a finger to do more than watch.

"I don't take orders from a mortal stripling," Jareth growled, "You would be well advised of that fact. You've never done this before. I have not the least inclination to let you start now." '_Let things go as they always have, my elf. I treat you well; I give you pleasure. Is it so horrible to let me control you?_'

Words within words; meanings within remarks. Toby ignored the words and went straight to the emotions. "Every time you first thrust into me, I think there's something sick inside me to like it. But then I remember who it is doing the thrusting and I don't give a shit because everything you do might as well be perfect. And you do control me; I fear you and love you to death, my King. But just because I serve under you doesn't mean I can't call the shots."

The candles flickered as Jareth opened the windows and let the fresh breezes into the room. The candle flames flickered, but didn't go out, casting moving shadows on the wall that added an air of mystery to the ordinarily rich Gothicism of the furnishings. He turned and directed a blank gaze at his lover.

Toby stared right back, shocked to feel distress and sadness come from his lover. It made his resolve weaken. He softened his voice and relaxed enough to rake a hand through his loose hair. "If you truly cannot do this, then I won't force you. But you need this. Hell, I need this! I trusted you enough to give you my body when it had been abused. I think you might do the same for me."

A flinch passed over the sculpted features- a surprising reaction from someone who seemed carved from marble and ice. Without a word, Jareth stripped off the long jacket he was in, dropping it in a nearby chair before starting on his clothes. Ordinarily he would have used magic in such a restricted time, but he was waiting to hear Toby say it was a joke, hoping that the fire-blond would take pity on him and leave him be. But the shirt came off and Toby said nothing.

"Where do you want me?" Jareth enquired softly. He shot a helpless look around the room, seeing ghosts and memories where there shouldn't have been any. Seeing times he'd hoped to forget. He prayed Toby wouldn't ask him to lie on the bed. He'd prefer to be bent over a chair if it came to it; his dignity would heal where his mind might not.

"The bed," Toby commanded.

The bed. Over two hundred years ago he'd learned not to hate that bed for what had happened in it. He had proved to himself that his trauma didn't exist when he'd slept in it as King since the night of his coronation. But he had always known better than to invite trouble like this.

"The bed, Jareth. Now."

He went to it and stared down at the sheets. Toby had obviously gone to the trouble of ensuring that this would be good for him. The sheets were silk, black as ebony against his pale skin as he climbed in. He looked up; blue eyes gazed at him from the edge of the bed. There was nothing more he could really say to stop this.

The boots followed. But he stayed his hands after that. If Toby wanted him completely undressed, the mortal could damned well do it himself! Jareth wasn't going to help him rip his soul to shreds.

Toby followed shortly after. Mismatched eyes were burning at him with a fury that would, at any other time, have terrified him out of his wits. But he understood this anger. "I hate this bed too," he remarked softly, "You brought me here after the first time I was raped. I was in this bed for the first dream He sent me. I suffered pain and heartbreak in this bed, Jareth. But I came back here for you. It's just a bed."

"Just a bed," the half-goblin echoed bitterly, "It has never been just a bed. I cannot be taken here. If you must do this, fine; but somewhere else."

"No; here."

'_I can't stand this!_' "Please," Jareth growled expressively. He was as close to begging as he had come in years. And why only with this child? What the hell had Toby done to him to make him beg?

Toby shook his head again and reached out a hand. He cupped a warm cheek, feeling the skin soft beneath his palm. "Lie on your back, Jareth. We've wasted enough time."

Gods above, those words! "_Lie on your back. We've wasted enough time." _He had said those words to him. He had spoken them with a cool affection and a thirteen-year-old had been sent to hell and dragged back through the ashes.

Toby felt a very real twinge of fear as Jareth's eyes went huge in his face, skin turning chalky grey as if he had seen a ghost. "Jareth? What's wrong?"

"I... please. I can't do this."

"Hush, my love. It will be fine." Toby had not been prepared to find himself holding a tall, shuddering slender figure. He had expected some fear; but not this. "Trust me."

"I can't. Not like this."

But Jareth didn't struggle when Toby pushed him flat on his back. Instead he stared up with glazed eyes, seeing someone else where his husband gently soothed him, seeing the world around him in a different way. The soft feel of lips shocked him out of his mental retreat, making him gasp and blink as he pulled away.

Toby held back slightly and let the Goblin King adjust back to reality. The shadows fell over the high cheekbones, making the pretty face seem almost freakishly skeletal. "Okay," he smiled, "Relax. I'm going to make everything all better."

Jareth shook his head hurriedly and composed himself.

"Your only instruction," Toby continued, ignoring the slight daze still clinging to Jareth's eyes, "Is to follow my orders. If I tell you to do something, you do it. Get it?"

The world made no sense so Jareth nodded. His brain was having a hard time fighting back the shock. "I understand," he murmured. His angel was leaning casually over him, a small hand resting over his heart and the other bracing his weight beside his head on the pillow.

Toby smiled, a small smile that made him feel a little less lost, a little more like he would be cared for. "I love you," the mortal whispered, just the instant before his mouth took his husband's in a hard, branding kiss.

Jareth allowed it to happen.

He said nothing when that hot mouth began to explore, holding still on his back until his body wouldn't let him any more. And all through it he was aware of his bond mate's silent reassurances that everything would be all right. There were times when the fear returned. And then there were times when he lost himself so much that he twisted and cried out beneath the exquisite torment. He barely noticed it when Toby urged him to turn onto his stomach.

"Breathe deep," the mortal soothed, "It won't hurt if you let me."

A carefully oiled finger slid in and Toby was a liar; it did hurt. Horribly! But the physical pain receded soon enough leaving Jareth nothing more to cope with than the emotional mess. The finger became three and he couldn't stand the rhythmic pressure on that little slice of heaven inside him. It wasn't meant to be like this! He was not supposed to want this after what had happened!

And then his lover was inside him. He heard the groan leave his lips and unconsciously clenched around the persistent intruder inside him.

Toby strangled a howl at the feel of that. From the way Jareth spoke, he had expected to find that the Goblin King would be unused to presenting his back, but he hadn't expected to take what felt like a virgin. "Jareth, relax," he ground out, stroking the half-goblin's side, "Just breathe and let me handle it."

Jareth felt the discomfort for the both of them and forced his body to stop overreacting. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Not ever. God, do you know how wonderful you feel? Never been in anyone else before. You're my first. And you feel so wonderful."

The words distracted him, drove him away from obsessing over the feel of the hardness inside him. He felt his lover pull out slightly before slowly taking him again. There was still pain and he moved restlessly, trying to provide the right angle.

Toby must have felt that because he moved too. And he picked up pace, feeling Jareth's desire lessen somewhat with slight mismanagement. "Up," he asked, "On your knees."

Jareth obeyed almost absently, saying nothing as the strokes began to come harder. He held still and bit his lip, clenching his fingers in the silky black sheets. A golden hand reached around his waist to stroke him back to the same fevered pitch he'd been at before. He didn't fight it. There was no point. Besides, he'd forgotten how very beautiful this feeling could be- the most intimate of shared embraces. It was one thing to be inside someone; it was quite another to have someone inside him.

'Are you alright?'

Just like Toby to worry. He nodded, pushing back as need absorbed into his blood. "Harder," he asked, "A little... yes! Gods, yes!"

Toby had been waiting for that. He himself had almost reached his climax twice, unable to believe it had come to this. But it was happening. And Jareth was so open about it, so wanton. Blood surged at the sound of that soft cry and if anything it made him want to give his husband everything he'd always dreamed of.

The wind almost stilled and the open window let in the sounds and smells of the Goblin Kingdom and its Labyrinth. And suddenly Jareth threw back his head and let out a low keening wail from the back of his throat, the sweet sound echoing out into the night like the howl of a wolf at full moon.

Toby slammed in so hard at the sight of it that he had one split second to wonder if he wouldn't hurt his bond mate before he clutched at Jareth's hips, crying out as his lover's climax pulled him to his own.

There were no dancing streams of colours or magic, no jerking of time or space. All it had been was a simple act of joining that banished the shadowy ghosts, and when Jareth finally scraped together the energy to turn around and look up, only a pair of grateful blue eyes were there to greet him. He pulled Toby down to him and kissed him, feeling the kind of relief that he hadn't felt in years.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Toby nodded and kissed him again, forcing his King and husband to submit, just one more last, delicious time.

That night, under the watchful eyes of a hundred of the goblin nobles and commanding officers of his army, the King of the Goblins swept cold eyes over his assembled guests and announced that the army would leave for war in two days. He allowed himself a small smirk as he noticed a nearby Lady look puzzled at his chest.

He glanced down the demure front of his consort on his arm and felt the smirk widen. The Medallion of the Ruling Monarchs was far too long and too imposing. But knowing how things stood, it looked good around Toby's neck.


End file.
